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BIRDS 

or 

FIELD 
FOREST 

and 

PARK 

ALBERT FIELD GILMORE 



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BIRDS OF 
FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 



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Courtesy of the National Association of Audubon Societies 

CHEWINK 
Upper figure — female. Lower figure — male. 



BIRDS of 

FIELD, FOREST 

and PARK 



By ALBERT FIELD GILMORE 

WITH A FOREWORD BY 

T. GILBERT PEARSON 

Secretary of The National Association of Audubon Societies 




*•& 



Copyright, 191 9 
By The Page Company 



All rights reserved 



First Impression, February, 1919 



)CI.A512733 
22 J9I9 






TO K. M. G. 

Whose sympathy and encouragement in the study 

and cheerful companionship in the field have 

greatly lessened the labor of its preparation, 

this volume is affectionately dedicated. 



FOREWORD 

No man or woman of the coming generation 
can lay claim to a broad education who does not 
have at least a speaking acquaintance with the 
wild birds and animals of the country. Public 
sentiment will demand this. 

We all know persons who are skilled in belles 
lettres, who know the languages of various 
peoples, and have wide familiarity with the 
history of what man has done; persons who have 
travelled much and acquired learning in the 
various fine arts, but who have no knowledge of 
the names or habits of any of the fourteen hun- 
dred kinds of wild birds found in North America. 
Their knowledge is replete as to the things man 
has done, but regarding the works of Nature 
they are ignorant. They know nothing of the 
soil formation; of the history of the rocks over 
which they walk. They cannot name the trees in 
whose shade they stand, and their ears are deaf 
to the songs of the birds that reach them from 
the fields and roads. 

Such a person, if left alone in the country for 
a day without human companionship, or a book 
to read, is usually miserable until relief arrives. 
The wild life of the open means nothing to him. 

Today, in every State of the Union, thousands 
of intelligent teachers are mingling with their 
daily tasks some instruction regarding the habits 
of wild birds and their value to mankind. 



vi FOREWORD 



Within the past ten years more bird books 
have been sold in the United States than during 
the entire previous history of this country. From 
Maine to California there is a great awakening 
to the fact that birds are of inestimable value 
to mankind and that their study is worthy to be 
placed alongside of those subjects which hereto- 
fore have so strongly claimed the attention of 
the educator. 

When the men of today were schoolboys they 
were not taught bird study, and, in a way, are 
not to be blamed for their present ignorance of 
the subject. There were few laws in those days 
to protect birds. Today, within our boundaries, 
there is not a useful bird that has not had thrown 
about it the protecting arm of the law, and it is 
intensely important that children be given a 
knowledge of this fact and taught the reasons 
why these wild creatures should be protected 
and increased. 

I believe this book has an extremely important 
mission. It will be read and studied by number- 
less readers, who from its pages will receive their 
first strong impressions of the beauty and value 
that come from an intimate knowledge of our 
wild bird life; and its author will have the blessed 
privilege of knowing that he has been responsible 
for starting many on the first step of that stair- 
case that leads the student to the treasures in 
the vast storehouse of Nature. 



T. Gilbert Pearson, 

Secretary of the National Association 
of Audubon Societies, 



PREFACE 

« 

The success of the little book "Birds Through 
the Year" in stimulating among its readers a 
desire to make the acquaintance in the open of 
the birds described therein, has prompted the 
author to prepare this somewhat more preten- 
tious volume. 

This is in no sense a treatise on the science of 
ornithology, but the effort is made to reproduce 
the atmosphere of the natural home of the bird 
in field, forest and park, by describing the con- 
ditions under which each variety is found, and 
their usual surroundings, as well as their habits, 
plumage, songs, etc. About one hundred and 
fifty varieties are thus described, including those 
most common in eastern North America. While 
the classification recognized by the American 
Ornithological Union has been followed, the 
Latin names have been avoided, as well as those 
purely technical terms that are unfamiliar to the 
layman. 

The author's observations of bird life, cover- 
ing a period of more than thirty years, have been 
made for the most part in his home state, Maine, 
in the region about New York City, New Jersey, 
the Catskill Mountains, and in the Southern 
States. 



Vll 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTBB PAGE 

Foreword v 

Preface vii 

I. A Bird's Year i 

II. Bird Study 16 

III. A Numerous Family 37 

IV. Flycatchers 67 

V. Swallows 79 

VI. Our Best Singers 87 

VII. Vireos 104 

VIII. A Summer Chorus 11 1 

IX. Woodpeckers 126 

X. Winter Comrades 139 

XI. Thrashers and Wrens 157 

XII. Wood Warblers 170 

XIII. Birds of Many Families 196 

XIV. Hawks and Owls 221 

XV. The Wilderness in June 236 

XVI. In the Orchard 274 

XVII. Bird Oddities 288 

XVIII. Bird Protection 302 

Index 315 

iz 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Chewink {In full color) {See page 55) . . Frontispiece 

Catbird 3 

Loon 9 

Meadow Lark {In full color) 24 

Northern Shrike 31 

Swamp Sparrow 46 

White-throated Sparrow {In full color) .... 48 

Tree Sparrow 50 

Chewink 56 

Kingbird 70 

Olive-sided Flycatcher 76 

Purple Martin 85 

Wood Thrush {In full color) 88 

Meadow Lark 116 

Flicker {In full color) 135 

Golden-crowned Kinglet 147 

American Crow 154 

Brown Thrasher 160 

Long-billed Marsh Wren 167 

American Redstart {In full color) 178 

Black-throated Green Warbler 182 

xi 



Chestnut-sided Warbler (In full color) . . . .186 

Yellow-breasted Chat . 189 

Great Blue Heron 196 

Spotted Sandpiper 198 

Belted Kingfisher 200 

Cedar Waxwing 203 

Yellow-billed Cuckoo 206 

Chimney Swift 210 

Sharp-shinned Hawk 223 

Sparrow Hawk 227 

Screech Owl .231 

Barred Owl 233 

Second Pond, showing Mt. Baker 236 

Pleasant River 238 

American Redstart 263 

"Paddling to the farther shore" 268 

' Rich pasture lands slope down to the farmhouses of 

the valley" 276 

J unco {In full color) 288 

Wood Thrush 308 



Zll 



BIRDS OF 
FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 



Chapter I 
A BIRD'S YEAR 

' I hear the wild geese honking 
From out the misty night, — 
A sound of moving armies 
On-sweeping in their might; 
The river ice is drifting 
Beneath their northward flight." 



— Burroughs. 



With the first sign of yielding on the part of 
grim winter there is a stir throughout all bird- 
land. As spring comes on apace, up from the 
South moves the restless host and scatters over 
the entire northland until every field, forest and 
park has its quota of feathered tenants. So regu- 
lar are the comings and goings of these messen- 
gers that they have been aptly termed the " mail 
carriers of the seasons." To one who has the 
love of Nature's melodies in his heart and whose 
eye is keen to appreciate her beauties, the advent 
in early March of the first Bluebird, Robin, or 
Song Sparrow is a very important event in the 
calendar. Not only does their coming mark the 
approaching end of the dreary season of cold and 
snow when life in the open is at its lowest ebb, 



2 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

but it announces in no uncertain tones the ad- 
vent of spring with her many and varied attrac- 
tions. Who does not feel a thrill of vernal joy 
when on some bleak and sunless day in March 
there comes to his eager ears the trumpet-like 
honk, honk, honk of wild geese as they make 
their hurried way across the leaden sky, bound 
north ? It is with keen admiration and a feeling 
akin to awe that one beholds the sudden appear- 
ance of these hardy forerunners of the migrating 
army; and one wonders at the strange instinct 
that prompts them to leave their comfortable 
quarters in the distant southland and start upon 
what seems to us a long and wearisome journey, 
whose goal is the frozen and forbidding north. 
In bird land life is a constant change, and the 
events of a year make a complete cycle. With 
those birds that migrate, the winter months are 
passed amid scenes which suit the individual 
taste of each variety; and to the migrant headed 
southward the choice of locality is surely a broad 
one. No doubt food habits play a very important 
part in the selection. To be sure of an adequate 
supply of their favorite food, the Flycatchers 
journey to the land where Jack Frost rarely, if 
ever, visits ; while seed and berry eaters may re- 
main where the weather is much colder, the 
hardier varieties even in the land of snow and 
zero temperature. That hardy denizen of the 
north woods, the Ruffed Grouse, whose favorite 
food is the delicate buds of birch, maple and 
apple-tree, finds cold weather and deep snows 
little hindrance to his well-being; in fact, I have 
sometimes thought, when coming unexpectedly 




CATIilKI) 



A BIRD'S YEAR 



upon a Grouse in midwinter, that the severe 
weather adds strength to his sturdy wings. 

During the winter months most migrants, 
often in loose bands made up of several varieties 
having similar feeding habits, lead a nomadic 
life, apparently care free except for the necessity, 
which they constantly face, of securing the daily 
food supply. So generously does bountiful Na- 
ture provide for her children this is not usually 
a difficult task. Birds do not have the instinct 
which many animals possess of storing food in 
excess of their immediate needs for use in winter, 
hence the daily quest; neither do they sleep the 
time away as do many animals. 

Those birds that eat seeds and berries, as 
Robins, Bluebirds, Catbirds, Sparrows and 
Finches, find their winter food in our Southern 
States. The insect-eaters as a rule go farther 
south, below the frost line, to southern Florida, 
Mexico, Central and South America. Wood- 
peckers find the grubs they eat under the bark 
and in the wood of dead and decaying trees; so 
that their food problem does not necessitate 
migration. Sometimes Song and White-throated 
Sparrows and Myrtle Warblers find their winter 
food as far north as New York City. Then they 
do not migrate. In a clump of cedars just north 
of Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn, where the cat- 
brier and poison ivy form a dense tangle, I have 
often found these birds as late as the end of De- 
cember; and they sometimes stay there all winter. 

Several months are passed in this easy-going 
sort of an existence. But the first breath of 
spring which has its beginning in some indefin- 



4 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

able region to the southward, seems to stir our 
bird friends there to memories of happy nestine 
sites amid summer's flower-strewn fields and 
parks, or shady forests far away to the north. 
With some varieties, as the Robins, the prelim- 
inary to the journey is a great gathering of the 
clans, sometimes tens of thousands in a loose 
flock scattered over miles of country. After a 
few days of socializing, they break up into small 
squads and, in response to the migrating instinct, 
set out upon a journey, long or short, according 
to the relative location of the winter haunt and 
summer nesting ground. 

All the members of a given family move at 
about the same time and, if the observation is 
made south of their nesting-grounds, usually 
pass a given point in a few days after the first 
individual of that species appears. Then they 
are seen no more until the return in the late sum- 
mer or fall. I see the Fox Sparrows in goodly 
numbers about the parks of Brooklyn during the 
first days of April. In about two weeks they pass 
northward and are not seen again until their 
return journey in late fall. 

Among migrants the bolder and stronger, and 
those that feed on the wing, fly by day, the more 
timid by night, when they seem to feel a greater 
sense of security from their natural enemies. 
At intervals they stop for food and rest, when- 
ever suitable cover is found, oftentimes even in 
the heart of a great city. In the shrubbery of the 
city parks and backyards during the migrations 
of spring and fall will be found interesting visi- 
tors, distinguished strangers, of whose presence 



A BIRD'S YEAR 



one is little aware unless the eye and ear be keen 
for their coming. Sometimes, if the cats are not 
too numerous, they will tarry for a few days in a 
sheltered yard where food may be had. 

The great highways of the air, which are 
traversed every spring and fall by millions upon 
millions of birds, have a general course that con- 
forms with the direction of the coast line and 
the river valleys. During fair weather the flight 
is high, probably more than a mile above the 
earth, where their progress is unobstructed. 
But when fog and rain set in, the flight is much 
lower and they are often confused as to their 
proper course. Then it is that many come to un- 
timely death by striking against lighthouses, tall 
buildings, telegraph and other wires. During a 
prolonged storm the loss of life among migrating 
birds from these causes is appalling; and this is 
only one of the many dangers that beset these 
plucky little travelers. In many of our States, 
particularly in the south, the laws for the pro- 
tection of birds are wholly inadequate, so that 
even during the spring migration whenever they 
seek shelter to rest and feed they are pursued by 
hunters. They are also sadly beset by the 
ubiquitous cat. Besides, songbirds in migration 
fall prey to the feathered hunters, the Hawk and 
Owl, that find easy victims in the host of trav- 
elers. Yet, despite all dangers, myriads of these 
heralds of the spring arrive in safety, dressed in 
their gayest suits, bubbling over with happy 
songs to cheer and entertain us during the golden 
months of summer. 

With strong fliers like Loons, Ducks, Geese, 



6 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

Swallows, etc., the journey is rapid and direct 
and occupies but a few days, even though the 
distance covered is long. For those birds, also, 
that winter in the near-by south the journey, 
though made leisurely, occupies but a few days. 
In marked contrast to these are the movements 
of those far travelers, whose journeyings are 
little short of marvelous. The Bobolink winters 
in central Brazil, and the routes to and from the 
winter home, especially of those that breed in 
our Western States, are very indirect. They 
travel leisurely through the Southern States 
where as Reedbirds and later as Ricebirds they 
are considered fair game for the hunter, because 
of their fat, plump bodies. Leaving the con- 
fines of the United States by the way of Florida, 
they fly across the ninety miles of sea to Cuba, 
proceed along that island, thence to the Leeward 
and Windward Islands by easy flight, finally 
reaching the shore of South America, whence 
the remaining distance to their winter haunts in 
central Brazil is leisurely made. Despite the 
long distance traveled, their goings and comings 
are made with great regularity and we can pre- 
dict with much certainty when they will arrive 
in early May. Mr. Chapman points out that 
Bobolinks were formerly found in summer only 
in our Eastern States, but they have gradually 
moved west until now they are found beyond 
the Mississippi, even as far as the Rocky Moun- 
tains. And yet when the migration begins in the 
fall, these western dwellers travel eastward to 
join their brethren for the long journey, not- 
withstanding that their winter home could be 



A BIRD'S YEAR 



reached by a much shorter land route via Mex- 
ico and Central America. Truly instinct is a 
strange and exacting master! The Golden 
Plover winters in far-away Patagonia but builds 
its nest within the Arctic Circle, covering twice 
each year a journey of nearly or quite ten thou- 
sand miles. Is it not a strange and powerful 
impulse that prompts birds to cover these enor- 
mous distances with all the perils and vicissi- 
tudes incident thereto? 

The cause of these movements is still a mys- 
tery, although scientists have given much atten- 
tion to the matter. The most reasonable expla- 
nation seems to be that they had their beginnings 
ages ago when the ice cap which covered a great 
portion of the Northern Hemisphere receded and 
advanced under varying conditions of tempera- 
ture. It seems that much force is given to this 
theory by the fact that birds of the southern 
hemisphere where the ice movements did not 
occur do not, as a rule, migrate, but are per- 
manent residents in their various localities. It 
seems clear that the migratory movement can 
scarcely result from the food problem alone, or 
the desire for secure nesting places, for in either 
case the northern journey would not necessarily 
help them. 

The relative time of the arrival of the many 
varieties that make up the vast bird army 
naturally depends upon one's location. The 
slow fliers arrive in the latitude of New York 
City a week or ten days earlier than in central 
New England and northern New York, and 
about two weeks earlier than in northern Maine, 



8 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

Of course the fast travelers cover these distances 
in a much shorter time. The duration of the 
spring migration is about eighty days, extend- 
ing from early March to late May. In the 
autumn the southward movement is made more 
leisurely, extending from mid-August to late 
November or early December. At this season 
they seem in no hurry and many of the hardier 
varieties linger until the real grip of winter is 
felt. 

The northward journey is ended when the 
bird has arrived in nesting grounds which are to 
its liking. As a rule, members of a given variety 
occupy the same general region, the area of 
which varies greatly with the different species. 
A few stragglers will venture farther than the 
majority of the species, and a few laggards stay 
somewhat behind the main body; but they 
occupy pretty definite zones, except as the sum- 
mer range is influenced by altitude. In moun- 
tainous regions will be found nesting birds be- 
longing to a species the main body of which 
occupies a lower region, often much farther 
north. For example, along the Allegheny and 
Blue Ridge Mountains will be found as summer 
residents a few varieties of which the great 
majority are much farther north, perhaps in 
northern New England or Canada. 

There have been lodged in the public mind 
many interesting but highly erroneous beliefs 
regarding the migration of birds, arising, no 
doubt, from the mystery that attaches to their 
sudden appearance in the spring and their 
equally sudden departure in the fall. In Eng- 




c 



A BIRD'S YEAR 



land it was long believed that Swallows hiber- 
nate in the mud as do frogs. Even so keen an 
observer as Gilbert White held to this belief, and 
probably this strange notion has not yet been 
wholly eradicated from the minds of men. 
The old Penobscot Indian who sometimes acts 
in the capacity of guide on my excursions into 
the north woods assures me that his tribe be- 
lieve that all the "little chip birds" make the 
long migrating journey by clinging to the backs 
of the larger birds, strong fliers as Loons, Geese, 
Ducks, Herons, etc., stealing a ride as it were. 
A lady recently asked me if it were true, as her 
pastor had explained, that Swallows carry food 
under their wings for use during the migration. 
While one may understand how these fantastic 
beliefs may have been held by ignorant persons 
a century or more ago and by illiterate Indians, 
it is not easy to understand how such an idea as 
that held by the preacher can find lodgment in 
the mentality of average intelligence and of 
liberal education. 

Very soon after arriving in the region selected 
for the summer home, usually as soon as the 
stains of travel have been removed and tired 
bodies rested, attention is turned to the very 
important matter of selecting a mate. The 
males then are clad in their gayest suits, and 
their choicest songs are ready to woo the ear of 
the coy female. A few varieties are said to keep 
the same mate year after year, but this seems 
rather unlikely. However, the choice is soon 
made, an agreement reached, and the attention 
of the pair is turned to the selection of a suitable 



10 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

site for the nest; and as to choice of location a 
wide range of preference is made by the various 
families. 

Some are expert builders, spending much 
time in the construction of the nest. Others are 
indifferent workmen, merely gathering a pile of 
sticks and reeds with little form and no beauty. 
A few varieties lay their eggs on a bare rock or a 
flat-roofed house with no nest at all; and one 
variety, the Cowbirds, lay their eggs in the nests 
of other birds, leaving the hatching of the eggs 
and the care of the fledglings to the little mother 
who has built the nest and has her own brood to 
care for. The great majority of birds, however, 
build substantial nests which, in some cases, 
serve as the home of two broods in a season; and 
sometimes the nest is used the second season; 
but this, I believe, does not often occur. Those 
birds whose young run as soon as hatched are 
the least expert nest builders. 

The nest completed, the eggs are laid some- 
times on consecutive days, sometimes with an 
interval of several days between. Then follows 
the period of incubation, varying with different 
species from ten to twenty-one days. During 
this time the eggs must be kept warm. This re- 
quires pretty constant attention. With some 
varieties the female alone sits on the eggs, be- 
ing fed by the male. With other varieties the 
male spells her, so that she may seek her own 
food and rest from her irksome task. You will 
note when you scare a sitting bird from her nest 
that either flight or running is difficult at first, 
the muscles of the wings and legs being stiffened 



A BIRD'S YEAR 11 

from disuse. The male is usually a constant at- 
tendant upon the female, spending his time near 
the nest and cheering his faithful mate with his 
best songs. 

The eggs do not all hatch on the same day, 
but at intervals which correspond to the time 
intervening between the days on which the 
different eggs were laid. With the coming of the 
helpless fledglings begins the busiest period of 
the year for the birds. Not only must there be 
an almost incessant hunt for food adequate to 
meet the demands of the voracious youngsters, 
but they must be protected from all marauders, 
thieving bird, snake, squirrel, or cat. 

With a few families, as the Ruffed Grouse, the 
male bird takes no part in the care of the flock; 
in fact it appears that he deserts the female even 
before the period of incubation begins. But 
with practically all the song birds and many 
others as well, the domestic duties are shared by 
both parents, and they seem fully absorbed and 
withal very happy in the work of rearing the 
brood. Their efforts are attended by many 
difficulties, for they are beset by frequent 
dangers. If one watches the nests in his neigh- 
borhood for a few weeks he will be astonished 
at the great number of tragedies in the bird 
homes. Yet despite all the dangers, many house- 
holds are undisturbed and the youngsters grow 
to maturity with no untoward accidents, adding 
their numbers to the growing host making ready 
for the return to the winter homes in the south. 

As we have seen, if conditions are favorable, 
several varieties rear two broods in a season. A 



12 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

pair of Bluebirds occupy a little Swiss chalet 
which we have placed on the shelf formed by the 
eve finish breaking around the corner of our 
house. When the first brood is ready to fly, they 
are convoyed to the orchard at the back of the 
house and cared for by the father, while the 
mother returns to the nest, lays another clutch 
of eggs, hatches and rears another brood. In 
early August the two families unite and we have 
a fine squad of youngsters about the lawn until 
autumn is well under way. 

The early comers have their broods well along 
toward maturity before the latest migrants ar- 
rive. Early in June young Grackles and Robins, 
in their short-tailed, spotted coats, may be seen 
about the parks of Brooklyn. As a rule, how- 
ever, March arrivals do not begin nest building 
for several weeks, until weather conditions are 
more favorable. The Canada Jay nests very 
early, sometimes in February or March, before 
the terrible cold of the northern winter has in 
any degree abated. 

With the later arrivals there is less delay, ex- 
cept in a few notable cases of which the Cherry- 
bird and Goldfinch are conspicuous examples. 
These birds spend the spring and early summer 
in careless roaming about the country, delaying 
the domestic duties until the season is well 
advanced. Sometimes as late as mid-August I 
find nests of the Cherrybird with eggs. Perhaps 
this delay is occasioned by the desire of the 
parents to provide their nestlings with some 
delicacy that is not earlier available. Who 
knows ? 



A BIRD'S YEAR 13 

With many migrating birds, soon after the 
young are full grown, old and young gather in 
flocks and, for several weeks, roam happily 
about the country before taking up their south- 
ward journey. But prior to their departure is 
the moulting which follows close upon the breed- 
ing season. Then birds are very quiet. There is 
little song and activity of ail kinds is at low ebb. 
Then the gay suits of the males are doffed and 
sober-colored coats better adapted for travel are 
put on. 

The southward flight begins early in August. 
Tree and Bank Swallows are among the first to 
leave and several of the more delicate warblers 
begin their journey well ahead of the advent of 
Jack Frost. With these birds the stay in the 
nesting grounds is very short, just long enough 
to rear their broods, scarcely more than two 
months. This seems a very brief period when 
the length of the migration is considered. But 
those sturdy heralds of the spring, the Grackle, 
Robin, Bluebird and Song Sparrow, stay late, 
some of them seeming to leave with reluctance 
only when cheerless winter is close upon them. 

The tide of southern migration is at its height 
from September 15 to mid-October. The army 
that comes in the spring has now been increased 
by all the broods reared, a vast host. This is 
rather a discouraging period for the new student 
of bird life, because of the change in plumage 
since the springtime, and the lack of song. The 
gayly dressed males are now in plain clothes and 
the host of young birds are in costume often 
quite unlike that of either parent. This leads to 



14 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

much confusion, not to say perplexity, on the 
part of the student who thought he could iden- 
tify all common varieties. But one should not 
take these difficulties too seriously, for with 
their return again next spring they will appear 
in their familiar garb. 

The round of the year's happenings is com- 
pleted when the winter habitat is reached again. 
It is a life of ceaseless activity with much of 
danger and many difficulties to overcome, but 
withal we may believe with much of joy. Under 
normal conditions birds seem very happy. We 
know little about the hardships they encounter 
during their absence, of the countless numbers 
that perish from the vicissitudes of travel. They 
tell no tales. They return to us clad in their best 
clothes, bubbling over with song, giving no sign 
of having grown old. We accept them as they 
appear, and feel a deep sense of gratitude that 
we live in a land selected as a summer home by 
the host of feathered songsters who give us much 
to enjoy in beautiful plumage and cheerful song. 

Very little is known about the age to which 
birds live, except in the case of those that have 
been kept in confinement for many years; and 
probably the facts thus obtained have little re- 
lation to the length of life of the same variety 
in a wild state. An effort is now being made by 
bird students to find out definitely about the 
length of life of birds, the direction and extent 
of migratory movements, etc., by attaching 
small aluminum bands to the legs of young 
birds wherever found, bearing the name and 
address of the person interested. It is believed in 



A BIRD'S YEAR 15 

the course of time much can be learned in this 
way. Wherever one of these banded birds is 
found, information as to the place, date, etc., 
should be at once forwarded to the address on 
the band. 



Chapter II 
BIRD STUDY 

"For Nature, true and like in every place, 
Will hint her secret in a garden patch." 

— Nature, Emerson. 

It seems to be the common belief that bird 
life is confined almost exclusively to the country; 
that so far as the city is concerned the only 
opportunity to pursue this most interesting 
phase of nature study is found in the museums 
and avaries of the zoological gardens. That this 
impression is false may be easily proved. Even 
slight investigation will show that there is much 
bird life to be seen in all our towns and cities, 
even in New York City itself, which might be sup- 
posed to offer as little attraction to these feath- 
ered friends of ours as any city that one could 
name. 

In all city parks, where there is suitable shel- 
ter, a goodly variety of birds will be found 
throughout the summer. Along the tree-shaded 
streets, in the gardens and on the lawns, in short 
wherever there is found the desired protection 
from their natural enemies, birds will be found 
in some numbers at all seasons; and during the 
migration periods of spring and autumn certain 
city parks are among the very best places to 
make the acquaintance of a great number of 

16 



BIRD STUDY 17 



varieties. In two hours on a Saturday afternoon 
in May, 1912, when the migration was at its 
height, I saw more than thirty different species 
of birds in Forest Park, Borough of Queens, New 
York City. In all there were several hundred 
birds, among them some, as the Parula Warbler, 
the Water Thrush, and the Yellow-bellied Fly- 
catcher, that are considered as comparatively 
rare. Of the first two varieties named there 
were scores if not hundreds of birds. To be sure 
they were but travelers, halted for food and rest, 
yet the opportunity offered to study them was ex- 
cellent, as they were quite fearless. On the two 
following Saturdays more than twenty varieties 
were found on each visit, and several settled down 
there to build their nests and rear their young. 
For more than ten years I have visited Prospect 
Park, Brooklyn, at all seasons of the year, ex- 
cept midsummer, and on no occasion, even in 
winter, have I failed to find some form of bird 
life. Starlings, imported about twenty years ago 
from England, have become very numerous, and 
these talkative little fellows are in evidence at all 
seasons of the year, during the fall and winter 
usually in large flocks. Woodpeckers and Blue 
Jays are permanent residents, while the summer 
colony is a numerous one. 

In the many city parks which I have visited 
here and abroad, wherever there are trees and 
shrubbery, birds have been found. Even in the 
Garden of the Tuileries in Paris, a much fre- 
quented park in the heart of the city, I found 
that delightful singer the European Blackbird, a 
large Wood Pigeon, the Bullfinch and several 



18 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

other varieties nesting as happily as though far 
distant from the turmoil of a great city. On a 
recent visit to Chicago, in Jackson Park, were 
found many nesting birds, Robins, Purple 
Grackles, the House Wren, Kingbirds and sev- 
eral Warblers. Thus one sees that these friends 
of man are ready to stay near him whenever he 
will provide home sites and shelter that are 
suitable for their need. 

Distribution of Bird Life. Bird life is very 
generally distributed over the earth's surface. 
On mountain heights, in mid-ocean, in the great 
deserts, even in the Polar regions, as well as in 
our fields, forests and parks, birds are found* 
Mr. Amundsen reports having found Gulls and 
Penguins very near the South Pole, so that one 
may believe that the distribution of bird life is 
practically universal. Thus we see that where- 
ever we go we may always find birds to study, 
under widely varying conditions in different 
parts of the earth. 

Form. All birds have the same general form, 
but they differ much in the size and shape of the 
various parts. The peculiar structure of each 
species seems to be that best adapted to its 
habits of life. And it is generally believed that 
the present shape and structure of the different 
families is the result of ages of pursuit of cer- 
tain fixed habits, especially those habits which 
pertain to gaining the daily food supply, the 
most important activity of each bird as well as 
the most constant. Flycatchers are keen of eye 
and quick of wing. Hunting birds, like Hawks 
and Owls, have stout legs and toes which are 



BIRD STUDY 19 



armed with long, curved, and very sharp talons, 
perfect instruments, you would say, for striking 
and holding their prey. These birds also have 
long, curved beaks which serve as excellent 
hooks for tearing. Wading birds, like Herons, 
Cranes, Flamingoes and Snipes have long legs, 
while with perching birds the legs are short with 
slender toes having many joints, the better to 
cling to the perch. Swimming birds have good 
paddles in their webbed feet, while with diving 
birds, like Loons and Grebes, the stout legs are 
set at the extreme end of the body, a structure 
which gives them great power in the water, but 
renders walking on the land very awkward. In 
consequence, their nests are always close to 
the water. Swallows have long wings which they 
use with great skill and much grace, but their 
feet are so small that they are very poor walkers. 
Some of the sea birds, the Albatross and the 
Frigate-bird, have enormous wings and are thus 
able to sustain themselves in flight for very long 
periods. On the other hand, the Ostrich and 
Cassowary have wings so small in proportion to 
their large bodies that they cannot fly at all; 
but both have long and well developed legs 
which enable them to run with great speed. It 
is probable that these were once flying birds, 
but their wings have diminished in size because 
of disuse. 

There is also great variation in the size and 
shape of the bill. The hunters, as we have seen, 
have sharp, hooked bills, well adapted for tear- 
ing their prey in pieces. The Woodcock and 
Snipe have very long and slender bills which 



20 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

they use like drills for boring deep into the soft 
earth for worms and insects. Cranes and Her- 
ons have long, sharp bills well adapted for use 
in catching frogs, toads and small fish. Wood- 
peckers for the most part live on grubs and in- 
sects hidden in the bark and in the interior of 
dead trees; therefore they are provided with 
bills for cutting like chisels; they are the car- 
penters of the woods. Their feet, with two toes 
ahead and two behind, are perfectly adapted to 
clinging to the vertical trunk, and the stiff 
spines of their tail feathers make excellent props 
to support them at their work. Humming Birds 
have very long, slender bills which make excel- 
lent probes to reach far into the interior of 
flowers for the nectar, and insects imprisoned 
there. The seed eaters, like Sparrows, Finches 
and Bobolinks, have short, thick bills, just 
right for cracking the shell of the seed. Cone 
eaters, like the Crossbills, have the most pecul- 
iar bills of all. When closed, the points shut by 
each other as though misshapen; hence the 
name. But when opened for use they make a 
most excellent implement for tearing apart the 
cones. In fact, a more perfect instrument for 
their needs could scarcely be devised. 

Thus we see in the various families great dif- 
ference in the size and shape of the several 
parts. But usually the purpose is evident upon 
a little investigation, and it will be seen that the 
size and shape of bill, legs and wings is that best 
adapted to the special use made of it by the 
various species. Surely Mother Nature is a wise 
and skillful architect who never does anything 



BIRD STUDY 21 



without a definite purpose, and who always 
adopts the very best plan. 

Plumage. Plumage is the bird's clothing. 
It varies in thickness and color according to the 
needs of the individual. Those birds that live 
in countries of severe cold are provided with 
thick, warm suits that cover them completely, 
even to their toes, but dwellers in warm coun- 
tries, including those that by migrating con- 
stantly avoid low temperatures, are much more 
scantily clad. The permanent residents in the 
north temperate zone, where the summers are 
hot and the winters very cold, shed many of 
their feathers in the season of great heat, but 
winter finds them fully clothed again. 

Plumage of birds changes much during the 
period of development. With those varieties 
like Ducks, Loons, Geese, Sandpipers, Grouse, 
Partridge, etc., that leave the nest as soon as 
hatched, the first clothing of the youngsters is a 
thick, warm suit of down, velvet-like in texture. 
This dress is retained by the water-living birds 
and makes a waterproof suit of underclothing 
of great service in keeping their bodies dry, even 
though they sit on the water constantly. With 
those that live on the land, Sandpipers, Grouse, 
etc., their first covering is soon replaced by the 
regulation dress of feathers which serves every 
purpose. The young of most land birds when 
hatched are nearly naked, and require the 
mother bird's protection from heat, cold and 
storms. But the feathers grow so rapidly that 
in a very few days their bodies are well covered, 
the wing and tail feathers being the last to grow. 



22 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

All birds oil their feathers to keep out the wet, 
from an oil cup nature has provided. So effec- 
tive is this that in the hardest rainstorm, al- 
though they may appear drenched on the out- 
side, yet their skins are dry. 

Color of Plumage. Each variety of birds has 
its own distinctive colorings. A whole family, as 
the Sparrows or Thrushes, may have the same 
general colors, but each species has its own pe- 
culiar dress. With many families, as the Fly- 
catchers, Sparrows and Swallows, there is little 
or no difference in the colors of the male and 
female, while with other varieties the difference 
is so marked that the relationship between the 
sexes would never be recognized. With the 
female Cardinal, Indigo Bunting and Goldfinch, 
there is a tinge of the dominant color of the 
male to lead to her identification. But the 
female Bobolink, Purple Finch or Scarlet Tana- 
ger so little resembles the male that she might 
easily be taken for another variety. 

With many varieties of birds, the color of the 
youngsters' first suit is strikingly different from 
that of the grown-ups. When the colors of the 
male and female are unlike, the young male 
resembles the father, the young female, the 
mother. But when the parents have the same 
coloring, the young usually resemble them. In 
some varieties, as the Bobolink, where the 
father bird wears his gay suit for a short time 
only, the young resemble the female. But when 
the young do not resemble either of the adult 
birds, usually they acquire the colors of matu- 
rity when a year old, but in a few cases, not 
until the second or third year. 



BIRD STUDY 23 



Besides the changes in color of plumage that 
occur with the development of the young birds, 
there are the interesting changes that result 
from the annual moulting. From the great activ- 
ity of the mating and nesting season, the suit 
worn during the spring migration becomes much 
faded and frayed, so that by midsummer there 
is need for new clothes. By the process of moult- 
ing, the old feathers are cast off and new ones 
quickly replace them. At this time birds are 
inactive, rather shy, and apparently low 
spirited, for little song is heard. With many 
varieties it happens that the new suit is so un- 
like the old that we do not easily recognize the 
bird in his new dress, except for certain familiar 
call notes, poses, habits of flight, and little man- 
nerisms which we come to associate with individ- 
ual birds, as we do with human beings. At this 
season the male Bobolink doffs his gay suit of 
black, white and buff and dons the plain 
brownish gray suit worn by his mate all the 
year. That little dandy, the Goldfinch, puts 
away his brilliant suit of black and gold and 
appears in a sober dress in which the prevailing 
color is dull olive green. The Scarlet Tanager 
also changes his beautiful red suit and seems 
content for the balance of the year to wear the 
modest colors of his wife. Birds that change 
color at this season moult again in the early 
spring, when they don their bright colors for 
the period of song and mating. So they are sup- 
plied with two new suits each year. Truly 
Mother Nature is a generous provider! 

Color Protection. A very interesting rela- 



24 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

tion is often observed in the harmony that 
exists between the coloring of a bird's plumage 
and the prevailing tones in its usual surround- 
ings. The Sparrow family, for the most part 
ground dwellers in field and pasture, have those 
shades of gray, brown and black which closely 
resemble the colors of the earth's carpet of grass 
stalks. The Meadow Lark, Plover and Bob 
White, living mostly on the ground, have similar 
coloring. If you visit that sturdy denizen of the 
woodland, the Ruffed Grouse, in his haunts, you 
cannot fail, to note the almost perfect harmony 
that exists between the fine tones of gray, brown 
and buff of his plumage and the color of the dead 
leaves and mosses that carpet his forest home. 
But the Spruce Partridge, as his name suggests 
a dweller of the great spruce woods of the north 
where the earth is of much darker color, is 
almost black. Birds that dwell in lands where 
snow lies on the ground the greater part of the 
year, like the Snowy Owl and Ptarmigan, are 
almost white. The Snowbunting, when he comes 
down from the north to visit us in winter, is 
almost as white as the snowbank he lights upon. 
But all of these northern birds turn somewhat 
darker in the summer when rearing their broods 
where the snow has disappeared. This change 
of color is the result of wearing off the white 
tips of their feathers. 

In the South Kensington Museum in London 
there are displayed several varieties of birds 
from the Desert of Sahara resting upon the 
stones and earth characteristic of their habitat. 
So complete is the harmony of color between 




Courtesy of the National Association of Audubon Societies 
MEADOW I. ARK 



BIRD STUDY 26 



the plumage and their surroundings that they 
are quite protected. The Vireo family, dwellers 
among the thick tops of maple, birch and elm, 
have an olive green shade above and light colors 
underneath that render them quite inconspic- 
uous in their sunlit bowers. It is not so easy, 
however, to recognize the relation which the 
more brilliantly colored birds, as the Goldfinch, 
Tanager, Indigo Bunting and the gayly dressed 
Warblers, bear to their surroundings. 

That they are in a goodly degree protected 
by their colors seems to be well known to 
the birds themselves, for often they remain 
quiet upon the nest until one is almost upon 
them, no doubt believing they are safe because 
so closely resembling their surroundings in 
color. Not long ago when returning to Camp 
Boulder from a morning's fishing, as we rowed 
along shore, a pair of Blue Herons settled on a 
marshy spot overgrown with rushes so near us 
that we quite wondered at their boldness. But 
almost instantly after lighting they became 
quite inconspicuous from the blending of their 
colors with the prevailing shades about them. 
They evidently were conscious of the fact, for 
close as we passed they did not take wing, 
although so much have they been pursued by 
the man with a gun they are usually difficult to 
approach. This is a very interesting phase of 
bird life and offers to the student opportunity 
for much research. 

Nests. It is during the nesting season that 
many birds come into the closest relationship 
with mankind. Then it is that they seem to be 



26 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

fully conscious of the feeling of tender interest 
which we hold toward them, for laying aside 
much of their usual fear and shyness they come 
close about our dwellings to find suitable home 
sites, with evident confidence in our love and good 
will toward them. In fact, many varieties of 
birds seek nesting places close to the haunts of 
men, rarely breeding elsewhere. Others seek 
isolated nesting places as far as possible from 
man whom, alas, they have too much reason to 
fear. 

In nest building birds display much skill and 
ingenuity. In general it may be said that the 
members of a given family have the same habits 
as to site, shape of the nest, material, etc.; and 
yet adaptation is often necessary to meet local 
conditions. In selecting a location for the nest, 
safety from their natural enemies, as cats, 
snakes, birds of prey, squirrels, etc., seems to be 
the main object; yet at times great stupidity is 
shown. A pair of Robins will build so near the 
ground that prowling cat or weasel could 
scarcely pass by a nest full of fat young fledg- 
lings. At a neighbor's house this year, a Cat- 
bird built in a bush by the back door of the 
kitchen, so near the ground as to invite the 
early attention of the cats with which the farm- 
house was supplied. The fate of the poor bird 
is easily guessed. On the other hand, many 
birds seek the most inaccessible places, tops of 
tall trees, and high cliffs. 

Most birds are good builders and take great 
pains in the construction of the nest which is 
the home of their tender young for several weeks. 



BIRD STUDY 27 



With those varieties where the young leave the 
nest as soon as hatched, much less care is given 
to nest building; in fact, some varieties, as 
Night Hawks, build no nest at all, laying the 
eggs on a bare rock, roof of a building, or some 
other equally exposed position. With Ducks, 
Grouse, Loons, etc., the structure is very crude, 
being scarcely more than a bunch of leaves, 
sticks, or reeds, a mere hollow to keep the eggs 
together during the period of incubation. 

But many birds spend much time in building 
the nest and display great skill both in the 
work of construction and in its concealment. 
The dainty little cup of the Humming-bird, 
scarcely larger than a good-sized thimble, care- 
fully saddled onto a limb and covered with 
lichens so skillfully as to resemble a knot so 
closely that only the keenest eyes can detect the 
difference, is a work of art that would quite 
baffle the deftest ringers. Vireos, too, are fine 
workers, building a symmetrical cup so strong 
and durable that it will sometimes withstand 
the storms and winds for several years before 
it is completely destroyed. These beautiful 
structures are lined with plant cotton, soft as 
down, making as dainty a resting place for the 
tiny fledglings as one can imagine. 

It has always seemed to me that the Bank 
Swallows and Kingfishers are among the wisest 
of birds, so far as selecting a safe home site is 
concerned. They dig tunnels in a sand bank 
several feet in length, at the far end of which a 
chamber is excavated in which the nest is built. 
You will readily see what a safe place this is, 



28 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

for prowling cat, squirrel or snake has little 
chance of entering. These birds may be classed 
as good engineers. 

Eave Swallows are good masons. From the 
mud-puddle in the clay road they roll up little 
pellets which are placed one upon another like 
bricks, making a strong structure when the 
material is thoroughly dry. Sometimes a colony 
of a score or more build a sort of tenement 
house, but each dwelling has its own entrance. 
Barn Swallows use the same material, but 
usually place the nest on the beams or rafters of 
a barn, or other outbuilding of the farm, lining 
it with hens' feathers. Rarely one sees a nest 
of this Swallow on the outside of a building. 

The Orioles are very skillful builders, weav- 
ing a fine, bag-shaped nest of strings, grass and 
tendrils, which they suspend from the end of 
some slender bough, usually of an elm tree, 
where it swings and sways in the summer 
breezes, its inmates quite safe from danger in all 
forms. Sparrows build substantial nests of root- 
lets, grasses, hair, wool, etc., on the ground, or 
in low bushes, as the case may be. Our old friend, 
the Robin, builds a rough but substantial nest 
of mud and straw, shaping it with her breast. 
Hawks, Owls and Crows build large nests of 
coarse sticks, usually in forest trees that are 
quite inaccessible. The Marsh Hawk, however, 
builds on the ground. 

The nesting habits of birds change with vary- 
ing conditions as to surroundings. Chimney 
Swifts and Tree Swallows formerly nested in 
hollow trees, but with the disappearance of the 



BIRD STUDY 29 



forests, the former seek unused chimneys, while 
the latter will gladly accept the proffer of a bird- 
house. One of the little chalets under the eave 
of our house in the country has had a Tree 
Swallow as tenant for several years. The Song 
Sparrow, a ground-nesting bird, now and then 
builds in the tangle of woodbine that covers the 
end of our barn. Our constant friend, the 
Phoebe, formerly nested in caves, under shelter- 
ing ledges and banks, but now finds a desirable 
site for her well built nest under a bridge, in the 
barn cellar, or in an unused building. 

The House Wren seeks very unusual nesting 
sites. A box is a favorite place, but an old shoe, 
an empty oil-can, or any hole or crevice large 
enough to receive the tiny structure will do. 
A friend told me of finding a House Wren's nest 
in the pocket of a carpenter's apron which had 
hung in the wood-house unused for several 
weeks. So much at home did the little sprite 
seem that my friend had not the heart to dis- 
turb her domestic arrangements, and the apron 
was not moved until the brood had left their 
quaint home. 

A great deal could be written about the nest- 
ing of birds, but perhaps this will suffice to show 
how varied are their habits. No phase of bird 
study is more attractive, or more worthy of 
study. In nearly all States wise laws have 
been passed regarding the taking of birds' eggs, 
and they may be collected only for strictly 
scientific purposes. But most boys and girls 
today have learned that the eggs are most inter- 
esting when seen in the nest, and left to hatch 



30 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

where the growth of the young may become a 
subject of daily enjoyment. 

Call Notes. The utterances of birds con- 
sist of call notes and songs. All birds have the 
former, but all do not sing. Call notes are the 
language of the birds, by which very definite 
meanings are conveyed and clearly understood 
by one another. A great variety of emotions, 
love, fear, hatred, jealousy, sorrow, etc., are 
clearly expressed by them, if only we could 
understand. Watch a pair of Robins as a cat 
approaches their nest of fledglings and you will 
have little difficulty in reading the story of the 
tragedy from the emphatic utterances of the 
distracted parents. The tender cooing of a pair 
of Turtle Doves will leave little doubt in the 
mind of the listener as to their ability to express 
affection and endearment. The pleasant ripples 
and gurgles that come to my ear in the early 
morning from a box within a few feet of my 
chamber window, which is the home of a pair of 
Bluebirds, is good evidence to me of their ability 
to give expression to the feelings of great fe- 
licity and domestic happiness which pervade 
their home, even though my dull ears are not 
able to understand the details of their conver- 
sation. The Sentinel Crow, posted on some lofty 
lookout to guard the flock busily extracting the 
kernels of corn which the farmer has so carefully 
planted, conveys instantly a very definite mes- 
sage as to the immanence of the danger when 
the irate farmer appears, gun in hand. Equally 
intelligent to his fellows, though less alarming, 
is the signal he gives when you leisurely saunter 





-^3S5B?f^^^^^ ^bi 




-s^V 








1 wJ3 




>w\ 







BIRD STUDY SI 



toward the cornfield with no death-dealing 
weapon in sight; then your approach may be 
quite close before they withdraw. 

When marauding Shrike or Hawk suddenly 
and on noiseless wing plunges into the midst 
of a flock of songsters, the cry of fear that 
goes up sends every defenceless bird in sight to 
cover instantly. There is no mistaking the 
signal and the response is immediate. Equally 
definite and vastly more pleasing is the happy 
conversation that goes on in a flock of Chick- 
adees as they busily work away at their never- 
ending search for food on a bleak winter day. 
The fortitude and hardihood of these sturdy 
little birds quite excites one's admiration, and 
one easily concludes that their happy notes are 
really for the purpose of cheering and encourag- 
ing one another at their seemingly cheerless 
task. At any rate, they convey a lesson of 
cheerfulness and gratitude to us mortals which 
we cannot quite afford to overlook. 

Song. To the great majority of people birds 
are most attractive in their vocal utterances, and 
one hears many songs when the singer is not 
seen. It is through their fine musical perform- 
ances that birds appeal directly to the heart, 
and a careful study of the various species in this 
particular will bring the keenest enjoyment. 
Few experiences of my life have given me so 
much genuine pleasure as the study of bird song. 

Each variety has its own utterances, but not 
all may be classified as music. Often there is a 
striking resemblance between the songs of the 
different members of a family. For example, 



32 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

with the Thrushes, by all bird lovers declared 
to be the very prima donnas of the bird 
chorus, the songs of the various species differ 
greatly, and yet there is a quality of tone com- 
mon to all their songs that is quite unmistak- 
able when one has once become familiar with 
the notes of this family. The same is true of the 
Vireos, and perhaps the family resemblance is 
quite as striking. 

In a given species the songs of individual birds 
will vary to a considerable degree. Mr. Bur- 
roughs tells me of a Song Sparrow that had in its 
repertory at least eight songs. A bird of this 
kind within hearing from our lawn this summer 
had a peculiar ending to his song that was 
unlike anything I have ever heard. But in gen- 
eral it may^ be said the similarity is close enough 
between members of the same variety to be easily 
identified when judged by the typical song. 
With some varieties the males alone sing; in 
others both sing with equal skill. Other varie- 
ties, as Cranes, Crows, Jays, Hawks, Ducks, 
Snipe, and most of the wading and water birds, 
have no song at all. Even that exquisite crea- 
ture, the Cherrybird, has no song, its only note 
being a faint lisping " seep seep," not especially 
sweet or musical. The Swallows, except the 
Martin, can scarcely be classed as singers, yet 
their contented warbles make very pleasant 
sounds during the sultry summer days. 

Bird song is almost endless in its variety. 
The "sweet heart" notes of the Chickadee, the 
tumbling torrent of the Bobolink as he hovers 
above the flower-strewn meadow, the measured 



BIRD STUDY 33 



anthem of the Hermit, his evening hymn of 
praise, are good examples of the variety that one 
finds in Nature's chorus. 

There is a charm attached to those bird songs 
heard in our younger years that is not replaced 
by others of later years, however excellent. 
The birds of our youth were the sweetest singers. 
It would be very difficult to convince a boy of a 
New England farm that the world holds any 
sweeter singer than the Bobolink or Hermit 
Thrush. The boy who passes his youth among 
the charms of a southern plantation would not 
believe it possible for any feathered singer to 
excel his own dear Mocking Bird and Cardinal, 
while our English cousins just as firmly believe 
that their wonderful Nightingale and Skylark 
represent the very acme of excellence in bird 
song. So it is not easy to say what and where 
are the best bird singers. Perhaps, after all, the 
song in our own hearts finding expression 
through these feathered minstrels is the one 
that most delights our ears. 

Wise Nature has not placed all her choice 
singers in one country or in a single locality. 
Every land has its chorus of excellent per- 
formers, returning each year overflowing with 
love and joy which are given expression in this 
form. The only price of admission to Nature's 
chorus is an attentive ear, a listening heart. 
Perhaps if the price were expressed in dollars 
more would become patrons of the bird opera. 

Bird Study. As we have seen, birds are to be 
found in practically all localities, if only one 
takes the trouble to look them up. The winter 



34 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

is a very good time to begin the study of birds. 
Then the museum may be visited where one 
easily becomes familiar with the plumage of 
many varieties. Field work also may be profit- 
ably taken up at this time of the year when, be- 
cause the varieties are few, one is less liable to 
become confused. Besides, experience gained at 
this time will be found of great value when the 
migration sets in and new arrivals are appearing 
almost daily, and sometimes several varieties 
in a single day. 

To succeed in this study, first of all one should 
cultivate patience, and while in the field move 
quietly and deliberately, with eye and ear 
fully alert. An excellent way is to seek cover 
which birds frequent, sit down and remain 
quiet; then you will nearly always be rewarded 
by the appearance of some interesting bird. 
It is of much importance to learn the call 
notes and songs, for this will help greatly in the 
identification of various species. And, besides, 
you will hear many birds that you do not see, 
and really that you do not need to see, for you 
know them by their utterances when once their 
calls and songs are familiar. It adds much to 
the interest of bird study if notes are taken, 
especially of the dates of arrival in the spring of 
the different varieties. Interesting conclusions 
may be drawn from a series of such notes made 
through a period of several years. One greatly 
needs a pair of opera glasses, field glasses, or 
binoculars. 

Classification. All birds may be broadly in- 
cluded in four general classes: 



BIRD STUDY 35 



I, Permanent residents; II, Summer visitors; 
III, Winter residents; IV, Transient visitors. 

In the first class are included: (a) All those 
birds that dwell the year round in the same 
locality, oftentimes never venturing far from 
their native woods or fields, as the Ruffed 
Grouse, Bob White, Owls, etc. (b) Those varie- 
ties which have representatives present in a 
given locality all the year, even though individ- 
uals move about over a range of several hundred 
miles. Such birds are Crows, Jays, Hairy and 
Downy Woodpeckers, Nuthatches, Chickadees, 
etc. While these birds are more or less given 
to a nomadic life, their wanderings are not ex- 
tensive enough to be classed as migrations. 

In the second class are found all that vast 
army which, with the return of spring, make 
their way up from their winter quarters south 
of us, select home sites and settle down in our 
midst to rear their broods during the months of 
spring and summer. These again make their 
way south in late summer or fall. 

The third class includes those birds that rear 
their young and spend the greater part of the 
year to the north of us, coming down only when 
cold and deep snows render their food supply 
uncertain. Certain varieties, like the Snowy Owl, 
visit the United States only when the winter is 
extremely severe. It seems that under these 
conditions hunger drives them where the cold 
is less intense. With other varieties, as the Snow- 
bunting, Crossbills, Redpoll, Horned Lark, etc., 
the journey is a regular one. 

The fourth class comprises those varieties that 



36 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

pass by in the spring to nesting grounds some- 
where to the northward, returning in the fall to 
spend the winter somewhere to the south of us. 
This class includes a large number of varieties 
which we can study only during the two or 
three weeks in the spring and a similar period 
in the fall when they are passing by. 

This is, at best, but a relative classification, 
as it may be readily seen that birds pass from 
one class to another according to the locations 
where the observations are made. A bird which 
in New Jersey is classed as a transient visitor 
in Maine may be a summer resident; and a bird 
in Maine which is a permanent resident may be 
classed in Connecticut as a winter visitor. But 
it is well to consider these divisions in order that 
one may the better understand the subject of 
migration. 



Chapter III 
SPARROWS AND FINCHES 

"He comes in March, when winds are strong. 
And snow returns to hide the earth; 
But still he warms his heart with mirth, 
And waits for May. He lingers long 
While flowers fade; and every day 
Repeats his small, contented lay; 
As if to say, we need not fear 
The season's change, if love is here. 
With 'sweet-sweet-sweet-very merry cheer.* " 

— The Song Sparrow, Henry van Dyke. 

This is a very numerous family, widely dis- 
tributed over the earth's surface, having among 
its members many of our most common birds. 
As they are for the most part seed eaters, they 
are provided with round, strong bills, admirably 
adapted for crushing seedshells. And as they 
do not have to travel so far in migration in order 
to secure a food supply as the insect eaters, they 
are northern dwellers. In fact some of them, 
notably the Snowflake and Redpoll, winter 
where the weather is extremely cold and the 
snows deep. 

Song Sparrow. This familiar songster is 
among our dearest friends of the bird world. 
Not only is he a constant singer during his long 
residence with us, but so trustful and fearless is 
he that he comes close about our homes, appar- 
ently fully aware of our love for him. The mere 
fact that he has been named the Song Sparrow 

37 



38 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

is indicative of the esteem in which his vocal 
efforts are held. And it should be remembered 
that he belongs to a family in which are many 
musicians of high rank. He is one of the heralds 
of the spring, his welcome notes being among the 
very first to announce the new order of things, 
the passing of the season of bare trees and bleak 
winds, the advent of soft breezes, warm sun- 
shine, leafing trees and budding flowers. He 
arrives in the vicinity of New York early in 
March and stays till the end of November. 
Probably a few winter each year in that vicinity. 

This Sparrow is in full song soon after his early 
arrival, and there are few more inspiring sights 
in all bird life than one of these little brown 
minstrels in the midst of a hard snowstorm, or 
a cold rain, pouring out his song of faith as 
though the sun were shining and his surround- 
ings just to his liking. May there not be a valu- 
able lesson for mortals in the courage and hardi- 
hood of this cheerful little singer? 

The Song Sparrow is a plainly dressed but 
not unattractive bird. The back is a streaked 
grayish brown, with the crown brighter and a 
light line through its center, and over each eye. 
The under parts are grayish white with spots and 
streaks of dark brown centering in a large blotch 
on the breast. The dark spot and the peculiar 
pumping motion of the tail when in flight are 
two good field marks for knowing him. The 
colors of this species vary much in different 
localities. In Arizona he is very light; in Alaska 
quite dark, almost black, with intermediate stages 
between. This Sparrow is about six inches long. 



SPARROWS AND FINCHES 39 

They usually build on the ground a nest of 
grass, rootlets and strips of bark, lined with fine 
grass and hair. Sometimes the nest is placed in 
a low bush. For several years a pair has nested 
in the woodbine on our house, some ten feet 
above the ground. The eggs are white with dark 
brown spots. Song Sparrows have a wide range 
extending over the greater part of the United 
States. In the east they nest north of Virginia 
and winter from Massachusetts southward. 

Chipping Sparrow. Another very common 
friend of lawn, garden and field is the Chip- 
ping Sparrow. He is a very dapper little fellow, 
clad in a neat suit of streaked brown above, 
light slate-gray beneath, with a pretty chestnut 
cap. He is often called the Hair Bird because 
the nest of grass in a bush or low tree is usually 
lined with horsehair. Last year a nest was 
brought to me made entirely of human hair 
which probably had been gathered around the 
back door of the farmhouse, a very dainty 
receptacle for the four or five tiny blue eggs 
which are thickly spotted with brown. 

In the woodbine on our house they build every 
year, and we find them very attractive and 
happy neighbors. Their only song is a rapidly 
uttered " chippy, chippy, chippy" running into a 
trill, not particularly musical and yet a unique 
and altogether pleasing performance. I have 
been watching for some time, with much inter- 
est, the mother caring for the young brood 
which left the nest more than two weeks ago. 
Their bodies are now full grown, but they are 
still bob-tailed, making rather odd-looking little 



40 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

chaps as they follow their very hard-working 
mother about. She keeps up a constant quest 
for bugs, for the seed crop is not yet ready, and 
as soon as one is found she calls the nearest 
youngster to her and hurriedly places the bug 
in his opened bill. Then at once the search goes 
on and the performance is repeated. Truly the 
number of bugs these hungry creatures consume 
is nothing short of appalling, for the hunt is 
kept up from morn till night. This is the smallest 
of our common Sparrows. They range in sum- 
mer to northern Canada, wintering in the Gulf 
States and Mexico. 

Vesper Sparrow. This is a bird of the broad, 
open fields and roadsides where the thick, tall 
grass hides its ground-built nest. It never 
comes close about our house as do the Chippy 
and Song Sparrow, but it is as much a ground 
dweller as the latter, with which it is often con- 
fused both in its song and dress. Its clear, 
plaintive notes are not, however, so loud as the 
Song Sparrow's and are heard more often toward 
night when other birds have ceased to sing; 
hence its name. But during the day its song is 
also heard in the intervals between the bird's 
feedings, when it sings for several minutes at a 
time, repeating over and over its melodious 
strain. It is not easy to distinguish by words 
between the two songs, but a little study in the 
field where both birds dwell will make the dif- 
ference clear to you; and one should associate 
the song with the singer to most enjoy it. 

The dress of the Vesper is quite distinctive. 
The back is dusky brown, rather lighter than 



SPARROWS AND PINCHES 41 

■ 

the Song Sparrow. The light breast and sides 
are streaked with dark brown, with no blotch 
in the center. The outer tail feathers are white 
and show plainly when the bird springs up in 
front of you. This is the best field mark by 
which to identify the Grass-finch, or Baywinged 
Bunting, as it is less commonly called. The 
nest is similar to that of his cousin in material 
and location. The eggs are light, thickly spotted 
with brown. They come in early April, range in 
summer as far north as the St. Lawrence River 
and winter south of Virginia. It is about the 
same size as the Song Sparrow, slightly more 
than six inches in length. 

Field Sparrow. The name of this sweet 
singer seems a misnomer, for I find him as a 
dweller in the bush-grown pastures and along 
the edge of the woods where the cedars grow, 
rather than in cultivated fields. He is shy and 
retiring, so that one needs a little patience to 
make intimate acquaintance with him. As you 
approach him, lured by his attractive strain, 
he retreats from bush to bush and will lead you 
some distance, striving to keep out of sight. 
The best method to adopt is to sit quietly near 
his nest and await his approach. 

The Field Sparrow is gentle in his ways and 
attractive in dress, but as a singer you will most 
admire him. The song is clear, plaintive, sweet, 
"beginning with three soft, wild whistles and 
ending in a series of trills and quavers that 
slowly melt away into silence; a serene and rest- 
ful strain, as soothing as a hymn." {Blanchan.) 

In color this Sparrow shows more of the red- 



42 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

dish brown than either of the preceding species. 
There is a gray line over the eye, the breast is 
light tinged with buff and has no markings. 
The long tail is reddish brown, and the bill is 
distinctly reddish, an excellent field mark. 

Their range corresponds closely with that of 
the Vesper. They arrive in early April and stay 
till November. The nest of coarse grass, roots, 
etc., lined with fine grass and hair, is usually 
placed on the ground, sometimes in a low bank. 
The eggs, three to five in number, are whitish 
with brown spots. 

Savanna Sparrow. Another very common 
summer resident in the upland fields, where his 
nest is well hidden by the thick growth of herds- 
grass and redtop, is the Savanna Sparrow. This 
is a small sparrow scarcely larger than the 
Chippy, but quite unlike in color, song and 
habit. When I cross the grass fields in June, 
every now and then this little fellow springs up 
almost at my feet, flies to the stone wall or a 
fence post, and after eyeing me for a moment 
slips away into the grass again. He displays a 
strange mixture of boldness and shyness. 

The colors of the Savanna are brownish 
black heavily streaked with brown above; the 
breast is light with wedge-shaped marks of dark 
brown. The best field marks are the dashes of 
yellow over or in front of the eye and on the 
bend of the wing. Its colors are admirable for 
the protection of so constant a ground dweller, 
It is said that in the southern portion of their 
summer range they frequent bogs and salt 
marshes, usually in colonies, where they are 
much shyer than in their northern home 



SPARROWS AND FINCHES 43 

The song of the Savanna is characteristic, so 
unlike that of any other Sparrow that once 
heard it will not be easily mistaken. It is weak, 
rather strident, insect-like, closely resembling 
in the opening notes the trill of a grasshopper. 
Mr. Chapman describes it as " tsip-tsip-tsip' 
s£-e-e s f r-r-r. " This song is less musical than 
that of any other Sparrow I have heard except 
the Chippy, yet it is interesting for its pecu- 
liarities. It is heard at all times of day but is 
more frequent toward evening. 

The nest is made of grass or moss and the 
four or five blue eggs are spotted with brown. 
The Savanna comes to us in late March or early 
April and stays till November, ranging from 
New Jersey to Labrador. They winter from 
Virginia southward to the Gulf of Mexico. 

Grasshopper Sparrow. This Sparrow has a 
more southern range than the Savanna, rarely 
venturing north of central New England. It is 
usually found in old, dry, abandoned fields where 
weeds abound. Its ground-dwelling habits and 
weak notes render it a very inconspicuous bird, 
easily overlooked if one is not aware of its 
presence in a certain locality. Its song, as the 
name suggests, is strikingly like the chirp of a 
grasshopper, to which it is commonly likened. 
The notes resemble the trill of the Chippy and. 
are suggested by the syllables ' Hut tut/ zee-e-e-e-e- 
e-e-e y " thin and wiry, audible for a short distance 
only, unless one is specially listening for them. 

The dress of the Grasshopper Sparrow is 
quite distinctive. The upper parts are reddish 
brown streaked with ash-gray. The crown is 



44 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

blackish with a buff line through the center. 
The line over the eye, lesser wing coverts and 
shoulders are yellow. The whitish, unstreaked 
breast and the gray outer tail feathers are marks 
which easily distinguish it from the Savanna, 
which is about the same in length, both being 
slightly shorter than the Song Sparrow. Grass- 
hopper Sparrows arrive in late April, range as 
far north as central New England, and winter 
from North Carolina to Cuba. The nest of grass 
is on the ground. The four or five eggs are pure 
white with spots and flecks of reddish brown. 

Sharp-tailed Sparrow. This is a common 
summer visitor along the seashore from South 
Carolina to New Hampshire. It inhabits tide- 
water marshes overgrown with sedge-grass and 
weeds, is rather shy and has a poor song. They 
usually dwell in colonies. Dr. Dwight describes 
its song as " tu-se-e-e-oop," a wheezy and un- 
pleasant strain. 

The upper parts are olive-gray in color, with 
a brownish tinge on the crown, which has a blue- 
gray line through the center. The cheeks are 
buff and there is a line of the same color over 
the eye. The breast and sides are buff streaked 
with black. The bend of the wing is yellow. 
The feathers of the tail are sharply pointed; 
hence the name. It builds among the tussocks 
a nest of coarse grass lined with fine grass. The 
eggs are whitish, thickly spotted with brown. 
These sparrows arrive in their summer range 
in early May and stay till September. They are 
slightly smaller than the Song Sparrow. 

Fox Sparrow. Not far behind the Robin, 



SPARROWS AND FINCHES 43 

Bluebird and Song Sparrow that first tell us 
spring has come, there arrives a bird in a bright 
cinnamon brown suit so red that he is called the 
Fox Sparrow. This name applies only to his 
color, for he possesses none of the sly traits 
usually attributed to Reynard. Rather is he a 
bold and trustful bird, decidedly social in his 
habits, for during migration we almost always 
find them in good-sized flocks of Juncos and 
White-throated Sparrows. In the open country 
I often find them in bush ricks along the old 
walls, in alder runs, or along the banks of the 
streams. In the city parks I find them in thick 
shrubbery under a sheltering hill where the 
bleak winds do not reach. Often in the early 
spring you will hear a rustling in the dead leaves 
so loud that you are almost convinced that a 
flock of hens is at work. They scratch with both 
feet at once, a most effective process, judging 
from the way they make the leaves fly. They are 
searching for grubs and insects, and are pretty 
constantly at work during the two or three weeks 
they are with us. 

As singers they rank very high, but it is not 
often that we are favored with their full song, 
which is reserved until their arrival on the nest- 
ing ground far to the north. I have been so for- 
tunate as to hear them sing in Prospect Park, 
Brooklyn, a rich, deep, well rounded carol, elo- 
quent of the joy of life. 

When returning in the late fall, they are 
silent, except for the call note, a rather low and 
lisping " tchip" which becomes louder and more 
emphatic when the bird is alarmed. They linger 



46 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

about the parks of New York City until the end 
of November, but with the snowfall they move 
south to Virginia, or farther. Their summer 
range is north of the United States, probably 
as far as northern Labrador. 

The Fox Sparrow is an inch longer than the 
Song Sparrow, and thicker set. Its coat is a 
handsome reddish brown above, light gray 
heavily streaked with dark brown and black 
underneath. They are said to build on the 
ground or in low bushes a nest of coarse grass 
lined with fine grass, hair, feathers, etc. The 
eggs are light blue speckled with brown. 

Swamp Sparrow. In late March or early April 
there comes to the reed-bordered brook which 
winds through the meadow, or to the swampy 
pasture land with its thicket of alder and fir, a 
Sparrow not often seen about the homes of men, 
except during the migration season. It is aptly 
named the Swamp Sparrow, for it is a denizen of 
those waste places of nature. 

If you invade his home, he will fly from bush 
to bush, uttering a faint little song which sounds 
like "weet-weet-weet-t-t-t-t" running into a trill. 
It is not a pretentious song, you will say, and is 
rather monotonous, yet it seems quite in keep- 
ing with the surroundings. 

He is somewhat smaller than the Song Spar- 
row, and has a cap of bright chestnut, a black 
forehead, and a grayish line over the eye. The 
back is striped with various shades of brown and 
black, so that the general color is darker than 
that of the Song Sparrow; the wings and tail 
are reddish brown and the under parts are gray. 




SWAM I' SPARROW 



SPARROWS AND FINCHES 47 

The nest is built on the ground in some sheltered 
nook, perhaps under a low bank, on a tussock 
of grass roots, and is . sometimes arched over. 
They range from Illinois and Pennsylvania 
north to Hudson Bay, wintering from Massa- 
chusetts southward. In winter I have found them 
with large flocks of other Sparrows among the 
sedge grass and broom in the sand barrens of 
North Carolina. 

The White-throated Sparrow. It seems in- 
evitable that one who spends much time study- 
ing Nature's feathered host should develop 
special fondness for some particular varieties. 
I confess to great admiration, not to say affec- 
tion, for the White-throated Sparrow, and no 
summer seems quite complete that has not 
yielded me opportunity for close association 
with this sweet wilderness singer. 

In the early days of April I search eagerly for 
them in the city parks, and often I am rewarded 
by a snatch of their delicious melody. But it is 
only a suggestion of their full, rich song which I 
hear in July in the spruce woods of northern 
Maine. Here they seem the very embodiment 
of earthly bliss and their notes are heard at all 
hours of the day and night, for it seems so brim- 
ming is their cup of joy that it may not be fully 
expressed during the hours of daylight, and they 
sing at intervals throughout the night. 

As the song of the White-throat easily lends 
itself to verbal rendering, much local sentiment 
is expressed in its interpretation. In Massachu- 
setts where formerly it was said one must be a 
Peabody or a nobody, the bird is believed to 



48 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

sing "Old Sam, Peabody, Peabody, Peabody." 
In Maine where the jackknife is supposed to be 
the constant companion of every man, it says 
"All-day, whittling, whittling, whittling." In 
Canada the song takes on a patriotic rendering, 
for every loyal inhabitant is sure it sings, clearly 
enough, "Oh sweet, Canada, Canada, Canada." 
There are many other interpretations, so that 
one may exercise a wide range in his choice of 
words to fit the music of the White-throat. But 
you may be quite sure, if you are so fortunate as 
to hear its full nesting song, you will not be 
disappointed. 

These Sparrows are among the few fall singers, 
so they are doubly welcome when they again 
return to us as they journey south. Some- 
times on October mornings we find them in the 
shrubbery in the backyard of our city home; 
and it has happened that in reply to a whistled 
imitation of their song they have favored us 
with a bit of fascinating melody. They linger 
about during the autumn days till winter is 
close at hand, then move along southward. 
Sometimes a few winter in the vicinity of New 
York City and even, it is said, as far north as 
Massachusetts, but the great majority winter 
south of Virginia. 

The usual call note of the White-throat is a 
lisping "tchip," but, when alarmed, he utters 
a very emphatic " chink," with a metallic ring 
that has led to its being called the "quarry" 
note. Like Fox Sparrows, they scratch with 
both feet at once among the dead leaves, a 
rather ludicrous performance. They are about 



I 




>*v. 





Courtesy of the National Association of Audubon Soc 
WHITE-THROATED SPARROW 



SPARROWS AND FINCHES 49 

seven inches long and rather stout. Their dress 
is attractive. On the head are two black and 
three white stripes. At the ends of the stripes 
over the eye and at the bend of the wing there 
is a dash of yellow. The upper parts are streaked 
brownish and there are two distinct white wing 
bars, and a square patch of white at the throat 
which gives the bird its name. The under parts 
are plain gray. They breed in woodland regions 
of northern New England, north to Labrador. 
The nest of coarse grass, fine roots, strips of bark. 
etc., is on the ground or in low bushes. The four 
or five eggs are white, speckled with brown. 

White-crowned Sparrow. This is another fine 
large Sparrow, one we would much like to have 
linger with us through the months of summer; 
for not only has he a handsome suit but re- 
port has it that in his nesting grounds far to 
the north he is a singer of much merit. The 
few notes I have heard during migration, in 
cadence and intonation are quite like the clos- 
ing strain of the White-throat, sweet and clear, 
suggestive of a delicious song were the bird in 
mood to do his best. 

In dress the White-crowned is the most beau- 
tiful of all the Sparrows. The head has three 
distinct black and four white stripes, and the 
throat and breast are a beautiful gray without 
the white patch. The back and rump are a rich 
grayish brown, the tail darker. There is no 
yellow about the eye or on the wing. 

They are gentle and refined in manner and 
the low call note, chip, is rather lisping and good- 
natured when the bird is not alarmed. They 



50 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

appear during late April or early May, and stay 
about for a few days in much the same localities 
frequented by the Fox Sparrows and White- 
throats, then leisurely journey along, never 
seeming to be in a hurry. They do not nest in 
the eastern United States, except perhaps in a 
few cases on the higher mountains, but journey 
to Labrador and northern Canada. We see 
them again in October for two or three weeks, 
then on they pass to winter in the South. 

Tree Sparrow. The Sparrows we have 
studied thus far are summer visitors, birds that 
help to make joyous the season of' warm sun- 
shine and flowers. Now we are to consider 
briefly a winter visitor whose coming cheers our 
cold winter season, when even the glimpse of a 
feathered friend is a rare but welcome sight. 
This is the Tree Sparrow, or Winter Chippy as 
he is called because he visits us during the season 
of frost and snow. Like his namesake of the 
summer, he wears a pretty chestnut cap, but he 
is considerably larger, about the size of the 
Song Sparrow. He does not have the neat, trim 
look of the Chippy, but is rather rough and 
fluffy in appearance, perhaps because he wears 
a much warmer suit to protect him from the 
chill winds and terrible cold of the long nights. 
He is a very hardy little fellow, else he would 
perish from such exposure. 

The back of this Sparrow is brown with dark 
streaks and the dark wings have two distinct 
white wing-bars. The cheeks and throat are 
gray. Perhaps the best field mark is the dark 
spot in the center of the ashy-gray breast. 



SPARROWS AND FINCHES 51 

When the sun shines they will be found about 
the old fields and pastures where last year's 
stalks of goldenrod, wild aster and various weeds 
show above the snow. Here they busily feed, 
two or three clinging to the same stalk in the 
most amiable and cheerful manner, uttering 
little notes of conversation, not in the least 
alarmed at your presence. Feeding over, away 
they fly to a near-by tree, and you may be so 
fortunate as to hear their sprightly song "too- 
la-it, too-la-it," gentle and cheerful, telling of 
contented and happy lives. Then away they 
go to the thicket where they spend the night, 
cozily tucked away in the thick top of friendly 
spruce or fir. 

In late autumn when the rear guard of the 
summer army is disappearing beyond the hori- 
zon, the Tree Sparrows come down to us from 
their breeding range in far-away Labrador; they 
stay with us during the months of snow and 
disappear to the northward just as the van- 
guard of the migrant army appears from the 
South. How grateful we should be that we are 
never without birds to cheer and interest us! 

Purple Finch. Close behind Robin, Blue- 
bird and Song Sparrow, those outposts of the 
bird army that regularly invades the North with 
the return of spring, come a large number of 
hardy migrants. Some of these winter so far 
north that they may be classed among our per- 
manent residents, for there is no time of year 
when representatives of their species are not 
found in the Northern States. Prominent among 
them is the Purple Finch, a most attractive bird 



52 BIRDS OF FIELD, FO REST AND PARK 

in plumage and song, one whose acquaintance 
should be made as early as possible. They 
usually travel in small bands, often in the com- 
pany of Goldfinches and Sparrows. Their pres- 
ence in flight is made known to you by a queer 
little squeak, low and sibilant, a sound that has 
been said to suggest that their wing-joints need 
oiling. 

In April, Purple Finches are found in low bush 
ricks, by the walls, along the brookside and 
in the orchard, where I fear they sometimes 
pluck the swelling fruit buds. Let us hope that 
if this knowledge comes to the ear of the farmer, 
he will kindly accept in payment their happy 
presence and delightful warble; for it would 
seem a great pity for him to intercept the 
career of such brilliant members of the bird 
choir. 

As a singer this bird is placed near the head 
of the Sparrow-Finch family, no mean honor. 
In fact Mr. Matthews says he has no equal when 
his method, which is that of a warbler, is con- 
sidered. His strain is much more pretentious 
than that of the warbling Vireo. The song is 
full, rich, varied and prolonged. When I find 
them nesting in the north woods in midsummer 
they often add two or three notes I do not hear 
in the open country to the south. Would it not 
be very interesting to know the cause of this? 
We first hear his song with the approach of the 
mating season, in late April, and he is rather 
a steady performer throughout the summer. 
When I find Purple Finches in the South in 
winter, stuffing themselves with poke berrie^ 



SPARROWS AND FINCHES 53 

they are silent, with the exception of now and 
then a call note. 

Purple Finches seem to have a wide range in 
nesting sites. In a thick-topped maple in a 
neighbor's dooryard they have nested for many 
years. They also nest in the spruces and firs 
of the northern wilderness, and sometimes in 
evergreens standing alone in the pasture. The 
nest is usually a dozen feet or more from the 
ground. The male is very attentive to his mate, 
feeding her as she sits on the eggs, sometimes 
even taking her place for a time. When the 
young are reared they roam the country in 
flocks, wintering from the Northern States 
southward to the Gulf. Their winter range 
changes somewhat according to the severity of 
the weather. 

The name Purple Finch is a misnomer, for 
there is not a purple feather on him. The males 
two years old and over are strawberry red on 
the head, neck, throat, breast and back, shad- 
ing into brown on the wings, tail and rump. 
The young males and females are streaked 
brown, much like Sparrows, but may be dis- 
tinguished by the rounded bill, the bristle-like 
feathers around the nostrils and the forked tail. 
They are the length of the Song Sparrow, but 
rather slender in appearance. 

Junco. Another bird that is both a migrant 
and permanent resident in the Northern States 
is the Junco or Slate-colored Snowbird. They 
are always in flocks except during the nesting 
season, for they are the most social as they are 
the most common winter birds. Yet many of 



64 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

them move southward in the late fall and I find 
them very numerous in the pine lands of the 
Carolinas. 

Juncos are confiding and trustful in manner, 
fearlessly coming to the lawn, even to the 
veranda, if perchance you invite them with 
crumbs from your table. They are very trim 
in their neat suits of slate color above and on the 
throat, with a light breast which gives the 
appearance of a low-cut white vest. The female 
has a wash of brown on the upper parts ; other- 
wise her dress is the same. The bill is flesh 
color, looking much like a wooden peg stuck 
into the round head. 

When you come upon a flock of Juncos, 
sometimes before you are aware of their pres- 
ence, you will be greeted by a most emphatic 
" smack smack " which tells plainly of their irrita- 
tion at being disturbed. This ill humor, how- 
ever, soon passes and you will hear a rapidly 
uttered " chew chew chew" a pleasing sound ex- 
pressive of content. As the mating season comes 
on, often just as they are leaving for the north- 
ern nesting grounds, you may hear a dainty trill, 
low, clear and quite musical. Their summer 
range is from the Northern States northward. 

I once found in a northern forest a junco's 
nest built of fine black rootlets, lined with snow- 
white hair, plucked, I thought, from a deer's 
tail. This made a dainty place for the five 
little white, brown-speckled e^gs. Mr. Bur- 
roughs once showed me where a pair of Juncos 
had built in the side of a haymow in an old 
barn, less than ten feet from the chair where he 



SPARROWS AND FINCHES 55 

sat at his literary labors several hours a day. 
It was interesting to note that although the 
nest was built entirely of dead grass, the material 
was gathered from the roadsides rather than 
from the abundance of the haymow. 

Chewink. A bird you will often find in early 
April scratching in the dry leaves in the parks 
is the Chewink, or Townee, as he is called. 
These names almost exactly represent his call 
notes as he flies up to a low bush, "chewink, 
chewink, towhee, towhee" notes rather metallic in 
tone but not at all unpleasant. As he spends 
most of his time on the ground, he is also called 
the Ground Robin. He is usually found in second 
growth tracts and bush-grown pastures, but 
always, as I have observed, near the ground. 
The Chewink is a bird of good temper, as his 
notes indicate, vivacious and rather winsome 
in his ways. He is not a pretentious singer, but 
during the season of mating and nesting the 
male sings a strain somewhat limited in range 
but clear and pleasing, which has been written 
thus : " Chuck-burr, pill-a-will-a-will-a-will. " 

In dress the Chewink is a distinguished bird. 
His black upper parts, throat and breast, bright 
chestnut-red sides, white belly, and dashes of 
white here and there form an unusual combina- 
tion of colors which renders him quite con- 
spicuous in the leafless woods of April. With 
the female the black is replaced with lightish 
brown, the chestnut-red is much lighter and the 
tail umber. The iris of the eye is red. 

The nest of the Chewink, on the ground or 
near it, is of dry leaves, grass and plant fibre, 



56 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

lined with finer grass. The eggs, four or five in 
number, are white, evenly speckled with fine 
brown spots. They range in summer as far 
north as Maine and the Province of Ontario and 
winter from Virginia south. 

American Goldfinch. This little courtier in 
black and gold is a very attractive member of 
the bird chorus both in dress and song. Tiny 
sprite that he is, he has the hardihood to brave 
the rigors of our northern climate, for I some- 
times find him in central Maine in the coldest 
winter weather. At that time of year he has 
doffed his gay clothes and put on a sober suit of 
olive-brown much like that worn by his mate 
throughout the year. But when the mating 
season approaches again he changes for his 
bright colors which he wears till the young are 
reared. 

This is a bird of many names, of which Wild 
Canary, Yellowbird and Thistlebird are the 
most common, the last because in the fall the 
thistle is his favorite food. In summer he is a 
frequent visitor to the garden because of his 
great liking for grubs found on the beets. Often 
I see him perched on the bean-poles proclaiming 
his happiness with a swinging u che-e-p " followed 
by his rambling, jovial song so full of glee and 
exuberance that one may easily believe him the 
happiest creature in existence. Then as he takes 
wing in long gallops, you will hear " per-chick- 
o-ree, per-chick-o-ree" long after he has disap- 
peared from sight. 

The Goldfinch is, all in all, in disposition, 
dress and song, one of our most attractive bird 





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SPARROWS AND FINCHES 57 

friends. His whole bearing is refined and gentle. 
The male in summer dress wears a black cap 
and wings, otherwise he is bright yellow except 
for a dash of white on the wings and tail. In 
winter the yellow is replaced by olive-gray 
similar to the all-the-year dress of the female. 
The summer range extends from the Carolinas 
to Labrador. They roam in winter from the 
Northern States to the Gulf. They build a very 
artistic nest of fine grasses, bits of bark, hair 
and mosses, lined with thistledown, in bushes 
and trees at some distance from the ground. 
The tiny eggs are pale blue. They nest later 
than most birds, often not until summer is well 
advanced. 

Rose-breasted Grosbeak. Among the Finches 
are several birds with bills so large that they 
have been aptly named Grosbeaks, that is, great- 
bills. Of these, the most common summer visitor 
as well as the most brilliant in dress and song is 
the Rose-breasted Grosbeak, named from the 
triangular patch of beautiful rose-red on his 
breast. 

I find them in the shrubbery of the less fre- 
quented parks of New York City in mid-May, 
and when I reach Maine, in late June, they are 
nesting in second-growth woods and occasion- 
ally in the orchard. One can but feel that this 
beautiful bird should be more common, and 
perhaps he would be but for the pursuit of the 
feather hunters who have found it profitable to 
slay him because some ladies believed his poor 
body made a pretty ornament for their hats. 
Happily most of the States have passed laws 



58 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

forbidding the killing of our song birds; and 
I am greatly pleased to note that where in my 
boyhood I never saw this bird in our valley, now 
he is a common summer resident. He is a special 
friend to the farmer, as a favorite food with 
him is the potato beetle. 

It is not easy to say which is more pleasing, 
his dress or his song. His notes have often been 
compared to those of the Robin, but the sim- 
ilarity is but superficial. The Grosbeak's song 
is much finer, pure and clear, a gladsome, ring- 
ing melody. Gibson spoke of it as "suffused 
with color like a luscious tropical fruit rendered 
into sound. " To me it is one of the most appeal- 
ing of the woodland songs, one that always ar- 
rests my steps instantly when the first notes 
reach my ears. 

The dress of the male is black above, with 
rump, outer tail quills and two spots on the wing, 
white. The breast and under wing coverts are 
rose-red, the bill white. When in flight the white 
wings marks are very conspicuous. The female 
is so unlike in color as to be quite unrecog- 
nizable, except for her form and size. Her 
general color is sparrow-like brown with sulphur 
yellow under the wings. She has no rose-red 
on the breast and her bill is brown. 

They nest from Virginia to Maine and winter 
in Central and South America. The nest, loosely 
made of twigs, rootlets and plant fibre, is placed 
in bushes or trees from five to twenty feet above 
the ground. The light green eggs are marked 
with brown. This Grosbeak is more than eight 
inches long and rather thick-set. 



SPARROWS AND FINCHES 59 

Pine Grosbeak. Among the visitors that come 
down from the frozen north during the winter 
season is a large and beautiful bird, the Pine 
Grosbeak, or Pine Bullfinch, as it is sometimes 
called. On these excursions they are rather shy 
and keep closely to cover, but when found in 
summer in the coniferous forests of the north, 
they are fearless and friendly. I have stood 
where I could almost reach them without dis- 
turbing them in the least, as they fed on spruce 
cones, the handsome plumage of the male 
making a striking picture seen against the back- 
ground of deep green. They also feed upon pine 
cones. They are large birds, almost as long as 
the Robin and much stouter. The short, thick 
bill has a slight hook at the end, a useful imple- 
ment for cone-tearing. 

The color of the male is olive-gray with rich 
Indian-red on the head and neck, reaching well 
down upon the body. The wings and tail are 
marked with streaks of black, white and slate. 
The females and young males have, in general, 
yellowish green where the male is red. The 
under parts are gray with a tinge of yellow 
under the tail. In winter they range irregularly 
in flocks through the Northern States, rarely 
reaching the vicinity of New York City. On 
these wanderings they feed upon berries of the 
sumac and mountain ash. They nest in the far 
north in coniferous trees. They are said to have 
a delightful song which I have not had the good 
fortune to hear, for I have found them strangely 
silent. 

Another beautiful bird of this family is the 



60 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

Blue Grosbeak which ranges over the Southern 
States, rarely venturing north of Virginia. This 
is also a good singer. The Evening Grosbeak is 
an inhabitant of the northern central portion of 
Canada. Yellow and black are the prevailing 
colors in their plumage. As singers they do not 
rank high. Sometimes they make very unex- 
pected excursions to the Atlantic States in mid- 
winter or early spring, but only at rare intervals. 
One would be much favored by fortune were he 
to meet a flock of these very rare visitors. 

Indigo Bunting. This little Finch is one of 
the birds that to know is to love, for it is both 
beautiful in dress and elegant in manner. As so 
often happens, the species derives its name from 
the color of the male, and is just what you 
would suggest because of the rich blue of his 
coat. Except for the black wings which are 
margined with blue, his suit is deep blue, lus- 
trous and luminous when seen in the sunshine. 
But you would never recognize his little mate, so 
wholly different is her dress, a grayish-brown, 
sparrow-like suit with just a faint tinge of his 
dominant color. 

Like Sparrows, Indigo Buntings feed largely 
on the seeds of plants and grains. When they 
arrive in early May they are in song and con- 
tinue to sing throughout the summer, even dur- 
ing the heat of noon when most birds are silent. 
The song is a happy, tinkling little warble which 
lessens toward the end as though the singer 
were wearied by the effort. It seems devoid of 
sentiment and does not strike one as being 
particularly melodious. 



SPARROWS AND FINCHES 61 

These are birds of the roadside and pasture, 
common in summer throughout the Eastern 
States. I have found them much more numerous 
in the valleys of the Willowemoc and Neversink 
in the Catskills than in Maine. They winter in 
Central America. The nest of dead leaves, grass 
and plant fibre is placed in the fork of a bush or 
limb of a tree near the ground. The eggs are 
bluish white. In size the Indigo Bunting is a 
trifle smaller than the Song Sparrow. 

"Their coats are dappled white and brown 
Like fields in winter weather, 
But on the azure sky they float 
Like snowflakes knit together." 

Thus sang Mr. Burroughs of the Snow Bunt- 
ing or Snowflake, as it is so fittingly named, a 
visitor that is always associated with snow- 
drifts and winter weather. Down out of the 
cheerless sky they swing, lighting in the weed 
patches that still show above the drifts where 
they feed as merrily as though this were their 
choice of temperature. In fact one easily believes 
they have a real aversion to warmth, for no 
sooner is the breath of spring felt than away they 
go to their summer haunts in the far north, 
well up in the Arctic regions where they nest on 
the ground. 

This is distinctly a bird of the open country 
and rarely does one see them in a tree except 
at night or x during a severe "storm, when they 
seek shelter in the woods. They are ground 
dwellers, where they are well protected by their 
coloring. As they run about on the snow some 



62 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST A ND PARK 

seem quite dark, others almost white, so much 
does their appearance change in the varying 
conditions of light. When in flight they are 
almost invisible against the sunlit sky. They 
are the lightest colored of the Sparrow family. 
The summer plumage, which we do not see, is 
even lighter than the winter suits. Then they 
are mostly white except for the black wings, 
tail and a band across the back. The winter 
plumage shows considerable brown. The bill and 
feet are black. 

Their notes, heard often in flight, are soft, 
rippling, and quite pleasant to hear when bird 
song is so rare. They appear in late fall, always 
in flocks, journeying sometimes as far south as 
New York City. 

Pine Siskin. Another winter visitor so er- 
ratic in its wanderings that you are never sure 
of finding him two seasons in the same locality, 
is the Pine Siskin, or Pine Finch. I often see 
them in flocks in Prospect Park during the late 
fall. In notes, size, color and manner, they 
closely resemble their cousins the Goldfinches. 
When I first made their acquaintance in the 
wilderness of northern Maine several years ago, 
I was quite puzzled for some time. But by 
careful investigation I found that while their 
general coloring is much like the winter dress 
of the Goldfinch, on the wings and tail there is a 
dash of yellow; and while their call notes are 
similar, the Siskin has an interrogative wee, and 
several harsh notes that the Goldfinch does not 
have. They build in evergreen trees in the 
woods, a nest of moss and fine twigs far above 



SPARROWS AND FINCHES 63 

the ground. They range in summer from the 
extreme north of the United States northward. 
In the winter they journey irregularly southward 
to the Southern States. 

Redpoll. This cheery little winter visitor 
comes to us in flocks soon after the cold weather 
sets in. As with the Siskins, you are never sure 
of finding them in the same locality for two 
seasons. They have no fixed winter habitat, but 
like so many of the seed-eaters, are habitual 
wanderers. They are rather shy little chaps, but 
sometimes will visit your garden in search of 
food. I sometimes find them in Prospect Park 
in November and December. They fly high in 
large flocks, and their presence is first known to 
you by a faint chip, chip, which grows louder 
as they come whirling down out of the sky, 
moving in perfect harmony. Thoreau's descrip- 
tion of them is so beautiful it is well worth 
quoting: "Erelong amid the cold and powdery 
snow, as it were a fruit of the season, will come 
twittering a flock of delicate, crimson-tinged 
birds, lesser Redpolls to sport and feed on the 
buds just ripe for them on the sunny side of the 
woods, shaking down the powdery snow there 
in their cheerful feeding, as if it were high mid- 
summer to them." With the warm spring rays 
they, too, set out for the north, but just as they 
leave sometimes we hear a snatch of song like 
that of a Canary, a sweet and melodious carol. 

The male wears a bright red cap. His back is 
dark brown streaked with gray. The throat is 
black, the rump and breast pink. The female 
has the same general coloring, without the pink. 



64 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

These birds are about five and one-half inches in 
length. 

Crossbill. When you first see the Crossbill 
you are quite sure he is deformed, so peculiar is 
the appearance of the bill. But when you see the 
bird feeding upon the cones of spruce, pine or 
hemlock, the seeds of which constitute their 
food, you are quite convinced that this bill is 
the most perfect instrument that could be de- 
vised for the use to which they put it. No other 
distinguishing mark is needed than the warped 
bill, the mandibles of which cross when closed. 

Red-winged Crossbill. This is a permanent 
resident in the most Northern States, a winter 
visitor farther south, but very erratic in his 
wanderings. When feeding, they climb about 
like little parrots, which they resemble some- 
what in form, color and movements. They are 
usually in flocks, except when nesting, and when 
in flight utter a sharp cheeping note. They 
nest early and consequently their young are 
full grown when other birds are still incubat- 
ing. Last year, in August, I saw them in large 
flocks, young and old, among the evergreens at 
Pemaquid, on the coast of Maine. They were 
singing a pleasing warble slightly suggestive of 
the Purple Finch, but a much less meritorious 
performance. 

The general color of the male is Indian-red, 
lighter on the rump. The wings and tail are 
brownish. The female has dull olive-green 
where the male is red, with darker shades on 
the head and neck. The under parts are light. 
They breed from the Northern States north- 



SPARROWS AND FINCHES 65 

ward, sometimes on mountains farther south. 
The nest of twigs and moss is usually placed in 
an evergreen tree at considerable distance from 
the ground. They are slightly more than six 
inches in length. 

Cardinal. The cardinal, or Virginia Red Bird, 
is a great favorite throughout his habitat; and 
ever since making his acquaintance I have felt 
that I should much enjoy him as a neighbor. 
Only now and then do they stray as far north 
as New England and are not common birds 
about New York, although at times they nest 
in the parks there. From northern New Jersey 
southward, they are permanent residents whose 
presence makes glad the heart of every bird- 
lover. It is not easy to imagine a person so 
blind to Nature's choice gifts in color of plumage 
and gentle manner that he would not become 
at once an ardent admirer and a consistent 
defender of this beautiful bird. In James Lane 
Allen's story, "The Kentucky Cardinal," is 
found a description so pathetic and altogether 
delightful that it has won many friends for this 
brilliant creature that has too often fallen a 
victim to its own beauty. The feather hunter 
has no sentiment. 

The plumage of the male Cardinal is a rich 
red color with black at the throat and about the 
base of the red bill. The wings are washed with 
gray, the feet are brown, and there is a promi- 
nent crest. The female has a much duller red 
and there is brown in her dress, but she is easily 
recognizedas the mate of the " Red Bird." Both 
birds are singers and their vocal efforts are 



66 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

greatly admired. The notes of the male are a 
full loud whistle, which has been indicated by 
the syllables " cheo-cheo-chehoo-cheo." The song 
of the female is softer and quite different, yet 
possessing the same quality. The call note of 
both is a sharp "tsip." Years ago, one April 
day after a late snowfall in a Virginia town, I 
heard the Red Bird singing from a treetop, the 
branches of which were heavy with snow. The 
bright color of the bird in contrast to the pure 
white, together with his glad song, made an 
impression I have never forgotten. 

The Cardinal is rather a bird of the hedge- 
rows, garden and tangles of wild vines than of 
the woods. He moves about somewhat clumsily, 
with tail held high, showing little evidence of 
the irritation that arises from a bad temper, 
such as is displayed by many birds, especially the 
House Wren. The bulky nest of leaves, bark, 
grass, etc., is placed in a bush or low tree. The 
light gray eggs are marked with brown spots. 
The male Cardinal is a model husband and 
father, bestowing upon his family the most 
solicitous and constant care. Altogether he is 
one of the most lovable of our feathered 
creatures. They are rather more than eight 
inches in length. k 



Chapter IV 
FLYCATCHERS 

"I quit the search, and sat me down 
Beside the brook irresolute, 
And watched a little bird in suit 
Of sober olive, soft and brown. 



'Dear bird,' I said, 'what is thy name?' 
And thrice the mournful answer came, 
So faint and far, and yet so near, — 
Te-wee! pe-wee! pe-wee!' " 

— The Pezvee, Trowbridge. 

The Flycatcher family receives its name 
from the common habit among its members of 
catching various insects upon which they feed 
exclusively. As their food supply is cut off by 
cold weather, except the Phoebe, they winter 
below the frost belt and are rather late arrivals. 
There are some thirty varieties throughout the 
United States, seven or eight of which are com- 
mon in the Eastern States. They bear strong 
family resemblance in color and form, as well 
as in feeding habits. They are not good singers, 
only one variety, the Wood Pewee, having notes 
that could be classed as musical. 

Phoebe. This bird has another common 
name, Pewee, or Bridge Pewee, from its liking of 
an old bridge as a nesting place. Phcebe is a 
good example of the influence of amiable ways 
in making friends; although neither specially 

67 



68 BIRDS 6F FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

attractive as a singer nor brilliant in dress, yet 
they are always welcome as neighbors and we 
are happier for their presence about the old 
bridge, the farmyard and the orchard. Their 
plaintive notes, " phcebe, phcebe" are rather 
monotonous, yet they are not unmusical and are 
quite pleasing in early spring when songsters 
are all too few. 

Phoebe is the first of the Flycatchers to arrive, 
since they winter farther north than any other 
member of the family. Last year at the end of 
December I found them in the pinelands of 
North Carolina, mostly solitary, but one pair 
in the shelter of a sunlit roof of a deserted house 
were in song, uttering loud notes that were quite 
strange to my ears although this bird has been 
familiar to me in its nesting range from boyhood. 
It is said the Phcebe mates for life. If this be 
true it is hard to understand why they do not 
make their migratory journeys together; or how 
he finds his mate, since the males arrive a week 
or two ahead of the females. They become 
strongly attached to a desirable building site re- 
turning year after year. 

This year, when our country home was opened 
in late May, a Phoebe's nest was found on a 
window cap near the kitchen door under the 
roof of the veranda. It was well built of mud, 
moss and grass, lined with bits of wool and 
feathers. Although so near the door where there 
was much passing, Phcebe was not afraid, but 
hatched and reared a brood of five youngsters 
who were guided to the orchard as soon as they 
could fly. There they are learning bird ways, 



FLYCATCHERS 69 

and we still hear, in late July, her gentle " phcebe," 
which somehow is always strongly suggestive 
to me of the springtime. 

A favorite nesting place is a barn cellar or 
under a bridge. The old covered structure, now 
fast disappearing, was an ideal place, but the 
girders of the modern structure of steel seem to 
answer every purpose; so perhaps Phoebe is not 
such a creature of sentiment after all. Formerly 
caves and sheltering banks were their nest 
sites, but they have quickly taken advantage 
of the better locations about the homes of man. 

Phcebe is very plainly dressed. The upper 
parts are brownish olive; the wings, tail and 
crown darker. Some feathers of the tail are 
edged with white, and underneath the feathers 
are dingy white with a yellowish tinge. The 
bill is straight and black. A good field mark is 
the constant lifting of the tail when the bird 
is perched. This Flycatcher is about an inch 
shorter than the Kingbird. They breed from 
South Carolina to Newfoundland, wintering 
from North Carolina southward 

Kingbird. A very familiar Flycatcher, so 
common that he is known to everybody who 
gives the slightest attention to the birds, is the 
Kingbird, or Tyrant Flycatcher, so called from 
a popular notion that he is something of a bully 
and tyrant. After close study of his habits for 
many years, I have concluded that his reputa- 
tion is well founded. His bristling nature mani- 
fests itself in his attitude toward small defence- 
less birds as toward the larger marauders who 
may be a menace to his household. He is a very 



70 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

jealous guardian of the neighborhood and, when 
Crow or Hawk ventures near, this valiant little 
warrior fearlessly plunges at the enemy, fiercely 
striking him on the back again and again, and 
sometimes, it seems, clinging fast with feet and 
bill to the luckless culprit who cries with pain. 
No amount of turning or twisting will shake 
him off until he is ready to quit. But should 
the Crow or Hawk light, then the situation is 
changed at once and Mr. Kingbird keeps well 
out of range of the stout bill. His purpose 
accomplished, back he comes with a rattling 
cry of victory and settles on some conspicuous 
perch, on the lookout for passing insects. When 
one is sighted, and his keen eyes see it far off, 
out he swings, snaps up with a click of his bill 
the defenceless creature, and rattles back to his 
perch to repeat the performance over and over. 

With all his show of bravery, however, I fear 
the Kingbird at heart is an arrant coward, for 
he always attacks in the rear, and the moment 
his victim, however small, turns on him, he 
retreats precipitately. But they are lively and 
interesting neighbors, welcome to the farmer 
because of their valiant show against Hawks. 

The Kingbird is common about the farm and 
orchard and in general in the open country 
wherever there are trees. I always find them 
nesting in elms that hang well out over the 
stream, sometimes only a few feet above the 
water. The circular nest is made of sticks, 
strings, wool, grass, moss, etc., lined with 
feathers and plant down. The four or five white 
eggs are thickly spotted with sepia brown. 




KINGBIRD 



FLYCATCHERS 71 

They are rather solitary in their habits at all 
seasons of the year. With all his belligerent 
nature toward other birds he is a model husband, 
for he treats his mate with great tenderness and 
affection. He relieves her at intervals during 
the period of incubation, and assists her in the 
care of the fledglings. Perhaps it is because of 
his great love for his family that he guards them 
so jealously. 

The Kingbird is the best dressed of the Fly- 
catchers, a family wearing only plain colors. 
The upper parts are ashy-gray with the head 
black. The under parts are white, grayish on 
the breast, and the tail feathers are tipped with 
white. The male has an orange patch on the 
crown that is seen only when the crest is raised. 
The notes of the Kingbird are harsh and un- 
musical. Their strident rattles are heard at all 
hours of the day during their residence. They 
arrive in late April or early May, summer 
throughout the Eastern States and New Bruns- 
wick, and winter in Central and South America. 
They are nearly nine inches in length. 

Chebec. The smallest of the Flycatchers as 
well as the most numerous, is the Chebec, or 
Least Flycatcher, as he is sometimes called. 
His shrill metallic cry, "chebec, chebec" is rather 
disagreeable, and when heard constantly becomes 
the most wearisome cry of the summer so- 
journers. They live in alder bushes along the 
bank of the river, in the orchard and in the 
edge of second-growth lots that border pastures. 
Perched on some good lookout, this little fellow, 
with jerk of head and tail, repeats his shrill cry, 



72 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

then darts out for passing fly which his keen eye 
sees at some distance. Then back he flits and 
resumes his perch with a low chuckle of satisfac- 
tion and takes up the same tiresome " chebec, 
chebec" He is about the only bird I dislike for a 
summer neighbor. We are very grateful that the 
English Sparrow has not become numerous in 
our neighborhood. 

Chebec excels as a builder. In the fork of an 
apple-tree limb, back of our house, he con- 
structs a dainty cup of rootlets and strips of 
bark, lining it with hair and plant down. The 
eggs are plain white. 

The dress of this little Flycatcher is rather 
pretty. The back is olive-green, the breast 
gray, and the under parts whitish. The head is 
darker and the wings have two distinct white 
bars. They nest from Pennsylvania to Quebec 
and winter in the tropics, arriving in early May. 
This is a very small bird, about five inches in 
length. 

Wood Pewee. Whenever, in summer, I plunge 
into the second growth woods just beyond 
the cove, I am greeted by a plaintive little 
song that contains more sentiment, more real 
pathos than any other melody of the bird 
chorus. Slow and pensive it sounds, morning, 
noon and night, from early May to the end of 
August, " pe-a-wee, pe-a-wee" a sweet, though 
rather melancholy, strain. 'Tis the song of the 
Wood Pewee, the best singer of the Flycatcher 
family. It is a wandering sound not easily 
located, and often one will search long before 
finding the singer. This song has pleased many 



FLYCATCHERS 75 

ears and inspired many a tribute in prose and 
verse. Mr. Matthews says of it: "It is to be 
classed along with Stephen Foster's 'Old Folks 
at Home,' or the famous Irish melody, 'The 
Last Rose of Summer.'" 

This sweet singer is the plainest of birds in 
dress. The male is dark olive-brown with a 
darker shade on the head and tail and there are 
two faint wing bars of white. The white under 
parts are washed with olive-gray on the throat 
and breast. The dress of the female is similar, 
but the under parts are tinged with yellow. 

Like other members of the family, the Wood 
Pewee is an excellent builder. Sometimes the 
colors of the nest blend so perfectly with the 
moss and lichens of the tree in which it is placed 
as to render it practically invisible. One summer 
I moored my boat many times directly under a 
Wood Pewee's nest so skillfully hidden in a 
hollow of an old yellow birch that I did not 
discover it until the young had flown and the 
autumn winds were tearing it to pieces; and it 
was not more than two feet above my head. 
It was rather a shallow nest, built of fine grass, 
moss and rootlets, skillfully covered with pale 
green lichens the exact color of the bark of the 
old tree. The eggs are white with brown mark- 
ings, some of them quite indistinct. 

This bird ranges in summer from Florida to 
Newfoundland and winters in Central America. 
They are among the last of the Flycatchers to 
arrive, usually appearing about New York in 
early May. They are six and one-half inches in 
length and the wings are longer than the tail. 



74 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

Crested Flycatcher. Yesterday I climbed 
Hedgehog Hill for the first time in many years, 
following the old cow-paths so often trod in my 
boyhood. This was our favorite berrying ground 
whither we went many times each summer to 
gather pailfuls of the luscious blueberries and 
raspberries which grew on the southern and 
western slopes. But now the old pasture is 
overgrown with sapling pine; and the crest of 
the hill, then heavily forested, is stripped bare, 
the white ledges gleaming under the summer 
sun. As I sat looking out over the broad valley 
of the Androscoggin there came to my ears a 
shrill note of interrogation, " pee-ups, pee-ups" 
which I instantly recognized, so characteristic 
is it, although I had not heard it for many 
months, as the call note of the Crested Fly- 
catcher. Very soon I located him on the top- 
most limb of a dead white birch, his prominent 
crest plainly seen with the naked eye. Through 
the glasses I got his colors, greenish-olive above 
with brown washings on the head, chestnut on 
the tail, and two distinct wing bars; the under 
parts are sulphur-yellow, except the throat and 
breast which are ashy-gray. This, our largest 
Flycatcher, is more than nine inches long. It 
is a wood-living bird, seldom seen about farms. 
He, too, is a tyrant, given to bullying all comers 
in his vicinity, as one would judge from the 
bristling appearance of his crest when he sights 
you. It is said a pair of them will often drive a 
Downy or Hairy Woodpecker from the cozy 
retreat which has been laboriously excavated as 
a home for the brood, and settle down for the 



FLYCATCHERS 75 

season with as much complacency as though 
they were owners of the premises. 

The Crested Flycatcher has the curious habit 
of hanging a snake skin or something resembling 
it outside the nest, probably to scare away all 
intruders. This habit has led to much specu- 
lating among ornithologists as to its origin and 
purpose. Mr. Burroughs says he has found 
onion peel and shad scales in the nest, perhaps 
the best substitute for the snake skin they did 
not find. They range from Florida to Canada 
in summer, and winter south of Florida. They 
arrive about New York in the early part of 
May. 

Yellow-bellied Flycatcher. A little Fly- 
catcher I often see in Forest Park, New York 
City, during the migration in mid-May, is the 
Yellow-bellied Flycatcher, a name by which 
you will quickly know him, for he is more dis- 
tinctly yellow underneath than any other small 
variety of this family. He stays for a short time 
only, then moves along to his summer home 
in the evergreen forests of northern Maine and 
Canada. When seen in migration they are 
silent but in their nesting haunts they sing a 
song that has been compared to the House 
Wren's deeper notes. It also has a softly 
whistled, plaintive call note, "chu-e-e-p" with 
a rising inflection. It builds on the ground in 
deep forests a nest of moss lined with fine root- 
lets. The four or five eggs are creamy white, 
spotted with brown. It is a trifle longer than 
Chebec. The color above is the regulation 
olive-green, with wings and tail brownish. The 



76 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

under parts are sulphur-yellow, somewhat 
washed on the sides with olive-green. Their 
stay is short, scarcely more than three months, 
and the end of August sees them journeying 
southward again. 

Olive-sided Flycatcher. Another Flycatcher 
that is known only as a transient visitor in 
the Middle States, but as a summer resident 
in Massachusetts and other Northern States, 
is the Olive-sided Flycatcher. These birds 
arrive in the vicinity of New York City toward 
the end of May, and are seen on some tall tree, 
on the lookout, as ever, for passing insects. 
They pass along quickly to the nesting ground 
among the dark forests of the North where they 
arrive soon after June i. These Flycatchers 
construct in a tall evergreen tree a beautiful 
nest of moss lined with fine rootlets and covered 
with green lichens, so closely resembling a knot 
that from the ground it is almost impossible to 
distinguish it. The eggs vary in number from 
two to four and are very beautiful, a creamy 
white spotted with brown and purple. 

The notes of the Olive-sided are plaintive, 
"pu pu, pu pu, pu pip, " oft repeated as they sit 
on some lofty lookout which commands a good 
view of the immediate landscape. They appear 
like the Kingbird in temper, jealously darting 
at any bird, large or small, that comes within 
the limits of their domains. The plumage is 
olive-brown above, with clove-brown on the 
wings and tail; the throat, middle of belly and 
line in center of breast are whitish. There is a 
tuft of yellowish-white feathers on either flank, 




OLIVE-SIDED FLYCATCHER 



FLYCATCHERS 77 

a very good field mark. The upper mandible of 
the bill is black, the lower yellow. This bird is 
about seven and one-half inches in length. 

When in the West Branch country this year, 
one day I heard the loud "pu-pip, pu-pip" of 
this Flycatcher from the stump lot just behind 
my cabin. On going out, I saw a parent bird 
with four full-grown young in the top of a dead 
tree, evidently on the lookout for food. Very 
soon the old bird disappeared from the field of 
my glasses, but quickly returned with an enor- 
mous dragon-fly which was passed over without 
ceremony to the gaping bill of a hungry young- 
ster. For a moment he seemed not to know 
what to do, but soon rapped its head sharply 
on the limb, gradually gathered in the stiff 
wings and, quicker than I can tell, swallowed it 
with a gulp. It seemed that this would be 
rather a bristly morsel, but, no doubt, they well 
know their capabilities in that direction. I find 
this the most numerous Flycatcher in the 
deeper woods of Maine. 

Alder Flycatcher. (Also known as Traill's 
Flycatcher.) This little bird has its summer 
home in the ricks and tangles of alders that 
grow along the brooks and small rivers, and in 
pasture swamps in New England and New 
Brunswick. It also ranges over the West, even 
to Alaska. 

After the end of May you will find him perched 
on the top of a low alder bush where he keeps a 
close watch for his day's rations, which he 
gathers up with all the vigor characteristic of 
his family. The notes oftenest heard are a rasp- 



78 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

ing " eaze-we-up, "and a rather sharp "pep, pep" 
when you approach. 

This is rather a brownish Flycatcher. The 
upper parts are olive-brown with ashy-gray on 
the wing coverts ; the under parts are white with 
grayish on the breast and yellowish on the 
belly; the throat is white. The upper mandible 
is white; lower, whitish. The nest placed in a 
low bush, two or three feet above the ground, 
is made of grass and plant fibre, lined with fine 
grasses and plant down. The eggs are creamy 
white with brown markings. It is about the 
size of the Song Sparrow. 



Chapter V 
SWALLOWS 

"And the gossip of swallows through all the sky." 

— Bryant. 

So sociable in their habits and so fearless and 
friendly toward man are the Swallows, they are 
among our best loved birds. The members of no 
other family come quite so close about us, for 
some Swallows even seek the shelter of barns 
and outbuildings for their home sites, while 
others inhabit the houses and boxes erected for 
their occupancy by the loving hand of man. 
They, too, are expert flycatchers, but their habits 
are quite different from those of the family we 
have just studied. Being provided with long, 
slender wings, they are among our strongest and 
most graceful fliers. They spend most of the 
hours of daylight on the wing, picking up the flies 
and gnats of the air. So much time do they spend 
in flight that their feet are undeveloped, so small 
and weak that they are not good walkers. Barn 
Swallows, stumbling about on the grass, remind 
one of clumsy infants just taking their first 
steps. This family is not especially noted as 
singers, yet their happy warbles bring much 
cheer, making them very welcome neighbors 
during the long summer days. 

79 



SO BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

Barn Swallows. The Barn Swallow, in pose 
and flight, is a very graceful bird, and its plu- 
mage, while not brilliant, is beautiful. There is 
little difference between the male and female in 
coloring, and there is slight change during the 
season, except, perhaps, for added sheen on his 
coat during the mating and nesting season. 
The upper parts are steel-blue, the forehead, 
throat and breast a fine chestnut. The outer 
feathers of tlie tail are dark, spotted with 
white. The tail is deeply forked, giving rise to 
the expression, "swallow-tail." 

In and out among the rafters and beams of 
the barn they flit many times a day, their busy 
twitterings, very pleasant sounds, not worthy 
perhaps to be dignified with the name of song, 
but suggestive of happy, peaceful lives, con- 
tent with simple ways, rather than aspiring to 
places of prominence in the bird opera. Gentle 
and peaceful as they are under ordinary condi- 
tions, when you climb to their nests on the 
rafters or beams, they fly about in great distress, 
even darting at your head, voicing in very 
emphatic tones their disapproval of your 
intrusion. 

I often think the Barn Swallow is blessed with 
a strong sense of humor. When the feeding for 
a time is over, if they sight puss prowling about 
the dooryard, a rallying cry will bring a goodly 
number of these skillful navigators of the air, and 
the sport is on. Straight at her they dart almost 
within striking distance of her cruel paw, then 
sheer off with a chuckle at her disappointment. 
Again and again the operation is repeated, 



SWALLOWS 81 



sometimes for an hour or more, till, quite dis- 
tracted, puss withdraws to seek easier game. 
Now and then when they venture a bit too close, 
she is able to strike one, and alas! our inhab- 
itants of the barn are one less. Only a few times, 
however, have I witnessed this outcome to their 
teasing. 

The nest of this Swallow is built of clay and 
lined with feathers. The eggs are white with 
rather large spots of brown. They range in 
summer as far north as Greenland and winter 
in South America. They arrive in the vicinity 
of New York City the latter part of April. The 
length of this bird is about seven inches. 

Eave Swallow. Another dweller about the 
farm buildings is the Eave Swallow, and he also 
takes his name from his nest-building habit. 
Not in the old barn, but under its wide eaves, 
they build their clay houses. 

When the May showers make mud-puddles 
in the road, this little mason becomes very busy, 
rolling up pellets of clay and transporting them 
to his nest site. As they usually build in colonies, 
often of a dozen or more pairs, the scene is an ani- 
mated one, for the work must be hurried while the 
material is ready. Our neighbor's barn has had 
a colony of eave dwellers for many years and 
they have been the source of much amusement 
to the many observers. 

Frequently there are as many as twenty of 
these tenements in one cluster; again not more 
than four or five; sometimes a solitary nest is 
built. These nests are rather fragile and need 
constant repair. Now and then the whole 



82 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

structure falls, destroying eggs, fledglings and 
all, and the poor birds seem quite distracted. But 
in a few days they go bravely about the work 
of repair and the season's labors go on as though 
no untoward accident had befallen them. 

It is a curious sight when the tenement is 
completed to see the mistress of each apartment 
sitting in the circular entrance at evening 
chattering and gossiping, but ever alert to drive 
away any who presume to invade the privacy of 
her home. The query is often raised, are the 
houses numbered? How else could they tell 
their own? When the first settlers came to 
America, these birds built on cliffs and were 
known as Cliff Swallows. In the West they still 
follow this habit. 

The notes of the Eave Swallow, little more 
than wheezy squeaks, are less attractive than 
those of the Barn Swallow. They strongly 
resemble their cousins in dress, but the tail is 
less deeply forked. They are easily told by the 
brownish ring about the neck and by the cres- 
cent-shaped frontlet "shining like a new moon. " 
These Swallows are slightly shorter than Barn 
Swallows. They nest from New Jersey as far 
north as Labrador, and in the interior even to 
the Arctic Ocean, wintering in the tropics. We 
may expect to see them around New York City 
late in April. 

Tree Swallow. You may also have this Swal- 
low for a dooryard companion in summer, 
if you will offer him a cozy tenement in the 
shape of an attractive bird box. They are less 
gregarious than other members of this family, 



SWALLOWS 83 



yet sometimes several pairs nest in the same 
general locality. In the forest they inhabit old 
Woodpecker holes and hollow trees. On the 
farm a hollow fence-rail or a hole in an apple 
tree makes a suitable nest site. 

A pair of these happy birds for several seasons 
has occupied one of our bird houses set on the 
little shelf where the eave finish breaks around 
the corner. Both birds assist in building, and it 
seems to me they carry into the little structure 
much more material than they need, sometimes 
filling it so full of coarse grass and straw that 
they enter with difficulty. The nest is made very 
soft with feathers, a safe receptacle for the four 
or five white eggs. They are easily distinguished 
from other Swallows by their pure white breasts. 
The upper parts are steel-blue or steel-green, 
darker on the wings and tail. The tail is only 
slightly forked. Their coats are glossy, glisten- 
ing like silk in the sunshine, making them, we 
think, very attractive ornaments about the 
premises. 

They are the first Swallows to arrive in the 
spring and among the first to leave in August. 
Since they feed exclusively on insects at this 
season, they are almost constantly on the wing, 
now skimming low over the water, now whirl- 
ing over the land in graceful circles, gathering 
their food as they go. 

When the young are grown these swallows 
gather in flocks and haunt the marshes and 
streams where insect life is most plentiful. They 
disappear to the southward by the latter part of 
August, and winter in the far tropics. Their 



84 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

notes are limited to a happy chuckle, a sort of 
family greeting, which I most often hear as the 
parent bird arrives at the nest with food. They 
also have a low call note of alarm, but are, on 
the whole, the most silent of our Swallows. 
They are scarcely six inches long, an inch 
shorter than the Barn Swallow. 

Bank Swallow. The Bank Swallow also is 
named for its nesting habits. This bird is an 
engineer, a digger of tunnels, at the far end of 
which is a secure location for its eggs and brood. 
Along the sandy river banks and where excava- 
tions have been made by man, this Swallow 
digs with its tiny feet a tunnel three or four feet 
long. At the end a chamber is excavated in 
which a nest is loosely made of grass and coarse 
straw, softened with feathers gathered from the 
farmyard. The eggs are pure white. 

Sometimes when you are walking along the 
edge of a bank you will hear a strange muffled 
sound coming from beneath your feet, and with 
a whir of wings, out will dart, from their dark 
cells, the frightened birds to inquire into the 
character of the disturbance. Whirling about, 
they angrily chatter for some time, but, on your 
departure, settle back to their home cares again. 

Their notes, which have been described as a 
"giggling twitter," are less pleasing than those 
of the other members of the family. As they 
are decidedly gregarious, we see these Swallows, 
too, in great flocks after the young are grown, 
often in the company of Barn and Eave Swal- 
lows. They also frequent the streams, gliding 
about like their cousins in search of food. 




PURPLE MARTIN 



SWALLOWS 85 



This is the smallest of our Swallows, scarcely 
more than five inches in length. Unlike their 
relatives, the plumage is dull, having no sheen 
or brilliancy. The best distinguishing marks 
are the dusky breast and white throat; the 
upper parts are brownish gray. Their summer 
range is practically all of North America. They 
winter as far south as Brazil and are among our 
April arrivals. 

Purple Martin. The largest of all our Swal- 
lows is the Purple Martin, or House Martin, as 
he is often called, because, like the Tree Swallow, 
he, too, will gladly accept the proffer of a tene- 
ment in the shape of a neatly painted house. 
But he insists that it be set firmly at the end of 
a stout pole, tall enough to discourage all efforts 
of the house cat, which seems to have a special 
fondness for the flesh of this fine bird. 

These Swallows are among our most attrac- 
tive bird neighbors, being rollicking, jovial fel- 
lows, always good-natured, if one can judge from 
their frequent conversations. Whether on the 
wing or sitting on their comfortable porches, 
they seem to carry on almost constant com- 
munication in tones that indicate easy-going, 
amiable natures. Their notes are like liquid 
laughter. There are few birds more attractive 
to me, especially in the morning, even though 
they disturb my sleep with their entertaining 
talk. They have neither sweet song nor bright- 
colored plumage, but their constant good humor, 
friendly manner and commendable domestic 
traits make them most welcome tenants. 

One of the few occasions when this disciple of 



86 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

peace shows signs of bad temper is when at the 
end of the long journey from his winter haunts 
in the tropics he finds his home in possession of 
a squad of noisy English Sparrows. Then there 
is immediately trouble in camp. If the fur 
doesn't fly, it is because there is none in the 
dress of the saucy intruders. As a rule, a very 
short combat ends the affair and the Sparrows 
seek other homes. The Martins, their battle 
won, proceed to pitch out of doors whatever 
they find, nest eggs, or young, it matters not. 
Then, in clean quarters, they leisurely build 
nests of straw lined with feathers, and lay the 
six to eight pure white eggs. It is needless to say 
the members of the farmer's household always 
fully sympathize with the Martins. Sometimes 
Bank Swallows, being earlier on the ground, 
pre-empt the quarters of the Martins, and then 
a family quarrel is started which usually results 
in a victory for the larger birds. 

So far as I am able to learn, the Martins at 
present nest wholly in receptacles provided by 
man. In the South, believing Martins help to 
safeguard the chickens against attack from 
hawks, the negroes suspend hollow gourds from 
the end of tall poles. 

This Swallow is eight inches long. The male 
has shiny blue-black plumage above and below, 
the wings and tail being slightly duller. With 
the female the upper parts are dull black, the 
under parts brownish gray, the feathers some- 
what tipped with white. They range north to 
Newfoundland in summer and winter in Central 
and South America. 



Chapter VI 

OUR BEST SINGERS 

Thrushes — Including the Robin and 
Bluebird 

"Who sings New England's Angelus? 
A little bird so plainly dressed 
With robe of brown and spotted vest, 
He rings New England's Angelus. " 

— Nelly Hart Woodworth. 

It is generally believed by bird lovers that the 
Thrushes as a family are our very best singers. 
In both quality of tone and power of expression 
they are the recognized leaders of the bird choir. 
They are a large family, distributed throughout 
the greater part of the world. We have about a 
dozen varieties in the United States of which 
five may be classed as common birds in the 
Eastern States, either as regular summer den- 
izens, or as transient visitors. 

The distribution of Thrushes in summer is a 
very interesting example of Nature's wisdom, 
for she does not gather all of her most attractive 
creatures in a single locality. The most southern 
in range is the Wood Thrush; the Veery over- 
laps his zone and extends into the territory 
occupied by the Hermit. This rare singer 
reaches into the haunts of the Olive-backed; 

87 



SB BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

and still farther north is the Gray-cheeked, 
which advances in its most northern range well 
toward the Arctic regions. The Bicknell, I believe, 
nests only in the Appalachian Mountains, 
rarely below three thousand feet elevation. Of 
course these zones are not to be absolutely defined, 
but they will give an excellent general idea of 
the location in summer of the various species. 
As a family, Thrushes are clad in sober brown 
suits, plain and unpretentious, but not unat- 
tractive. Perhaps Dame Nature did not think 
it wise to dress such excellent vocalists in bril- 
liant colors. 

Wood Thrush. Although one naturally thinks 
from its name that this is a forest-dwelling 
bird, yet it is very common about the city 
parks and gardens, even about the hedges and 
shrubbery of the lawn. In fact its name is quite 
a misnomer, another illustration of naming a 
bird for what it is not, rather than for what it is. 
No other member of this family is seen so much 
in the open, or so close about our homes. 

This is in dress the most strikingly marked of 
our Thrushes. The upper parts are cinnamon- 
brown, brightest on the crown. The white under 
parts are marked with large, round black spots 
on the breast and sides, with finer spots running 
from the bill to the marks on the breast. It 
sometimes raises the feathers of the crown when 
excited, giving the appearance of a crest. It is 
the largest of our Thrushes, nearly eight and 
one-half inches in length. 

The Wood Thrush is distinctly a bird of 
elegance and grace in pose and movement, and 




■■</ 



Courtesy of the National Association of Audubon Societies 
WOOD THRUSH 



OUR BEST SINGERS 89 

its disposition is what one expects in a bird of 
such vocal ability; for in some way we have 
come to associate musical talents of high order 
with amiability of temper. When disturbed, 
particularly during the nesting season, it utters 
a sharp quick alarm note, " pit, pit," which gives 
evidence of its anxiety for the fledglings. It 
also has, at intervals, a series of "'chucks" and 
" tuts " which it runs together as an interlude to 
its song. Many believe the Wood Thrush is ex- 
celled only by the Hermit. Its notes are pure 
and limpid, the opening strain, calm and peace- 
ful, has often been interpreted by the words, 
"Come to me." Heard at evening, when all 
nature is at peace, it is a soulful and uplifting 
strain. It ranges over the Eastern States, breed- 
ing as far north as northern New England. 

The Wood Thrush is a rare bird in Maine, 
but in the thick deciduous forest surrounding 
the Pleasant River camps, some five miles from 
Katahdin Iron Works, each season for several 
years I found a colony of them nesting. For 
some time I was puzzled at their presence so far 
north and was inclined to believe them a variety 
with which I was not familiar, but after much 
careful study and comparison I am convinced 
they are Wood Thrushes. In the little camp I 
occupy in sound of the rippling stream, their 
notes, soothing and delicious, are heard till the 
twilight has gone; and again in early morning 
with the first gleam of the approaching day they 
pipe their melodious lays. The presence of these 
birds in the woods far north of their accustomed 
haunts has been the source of so much pleasure 



90 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

to me that I am held by them for a day or two 
each year. I also hear this Thrush in June in the 
wooded parks of New York City, where they 
arrive in the latter part of April. The nest of 
the Wood Thrush is made of mud, dead leaves, 
twigs and grass, lined with fine rootlets. It is 
usually placed in a bush or tree several feet 
above the ground. The eggs are light blue like 
the Robin's. 

Hermit Thrush. The earliest comer of the 
Thrushes is the Hermit, and he is the last to 
leave in the fall. In the very first days of April 
he appears in the city parks of New York, pass- 
ing on in a week or ten days to his nesting 
ground north of the latitude of central New 
England. At this season he is silent, giving no 
hint of the wonderful Vocal power he exhibits 
when settled down in his summer range. 

The Hermit's dress, olive-brown above, shad- 
ing to brighter brown on the tail, is duller than 
that of the Wood Thrush. The breast and throat 
tinged with buff, have rather faint wedge- 
shaped marks of brown running into lines on 
the sides. The best field mark is the bright 
brown tail, as this is the only Thrush to have 
the tail brighter than the back. When perched, 
the Hermit at intervals slowly lifts its tail, a 
habit followed by no other Thrush. 

For its song, the Hermit is the most admired 
of all northern birds. Perhaps the Mocking Bird 
is as much admired in the South, but probably 
an unprejudiced judge would say that in tone 
and execution the Hermit is unexcelled. Mr. 
Matthews pronounces him "the most talented 



OUR BEST SINGERS 91 

and brilliant melodist in the world, the Night- 
ingale not excepted. " 

There is a quality in this song that appeals 
directly to one's spiritual nature. It is limpid, 
serene, uplifting, impossible to express in words. 
Many have tried to convey some adequate idea 
of its wonderful quality, but all, to my mind, 
have failed. To be appreciated at its full, it 
should be heard in its proper setting, the gloom 
of the thick woods, as the afternoon shadows 
are lengthening. Then you will often hear an 
alternating duet, as it were, ringing back and 
forth between these sweet singers, the very soul 
of tuneful melody. 

There could scarcely be imagined a greater 
contrast in song and habit than exists between 
this "Swamp Angel," as he is well named, and 
that minstrel of the meadow, the rollicking Bob- 
olink. The latter is distinctly a creature of the 
sunshine and flower-strewn fields where, during 
the long days of June, he pours forth his bubbling, 
tinkling torrent of song which charms and de- 
lights us with its very ecstasy. The life of the 
Hermit, on the contrary, is secluded and seem- 
ingly much less joyous. Like the Anchorite of 
old, he seeks the silence and gloom of the ever- 
green forest where he chants his hymn of praise, 
a divine melody. I count myself very fortunate 
that my boyhood was passed where this wonder- 
ful wood-singer loved to dwell, and my heart is 
filled with gratitude toward the Giver of all good 
gifts for that great privilege. 

The Hermit builds on the ground, usually in 
the woods, a nest of moss, coarse grass and 



92 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

leaves, lined with fine rootlets, pine needles, etc. 
Last year I found two nests outside the woods, 
one in a low bank by the roadside and only a 
few feet from the wheeltrack; the other in a tuft 
of coarse grass in a pasture, but in both cases 
only a short distance from the edge of thick 
woods. The four or five eggs are pale green or 
light blue in color. The Hermit continues to 
sing well toward the end of August, when most 
birds are silent. 

The Wilson Thrush, or Veery. In the thick 
underbrush of low swampy lands, in tangles 
on the banks of . streams and ponds, and in 
thick shrubbery in the parks, you will hear in 
May the song of the Veery, another celebrated 
member of this talented group. Some writers 
have placed this Thrush even above the Hermit 
as a singer, but for myself I have never been able 
to put so high an estimate on his performance. 
He, too, is a regular summer resident about our 
homestead, but he has never aroused or in- 
spired me as has his distinguished cousin. It 
seems very probable that on my part there is 
some lack of appreciation of a bird that has 
inspired from the pen of Dr. Van Dyke this 
beautiful tribute: 



"The moonbeams over Arno's Vale in silver flood were pouring, 
When first I heard the Nightingale a long-lost love deploring. 
So passionate, so full of pain, it sounded strange and eerie; 
I longed to hear a simpler strain, — the wood-notes of the Veery. 

"But far away and far away, the tawny Thrush is singing; 
New England woods, at close of day, with that clear chant are ring- 
ing; 
And when my light of life is low, and heart and flesh are weary, 
I fain would hear before I go, the wood-notes of the Veery." 



OUR BEST SINGERS 



The Veery is a shy bird inclined to keep well 
within the cover of its nesting haunts. The most 
satisfactory way to make his acquaintance is 
to invade his thicket and sit still until he 
appears. Only rarely do I see him cross the 
river from the thick second growth where he 
nests to the bush-grown bank where he feeds for 
a time on the black worms that are destroying 
the leaves of the alders. This is usually a ground- 
dwelling bird, rarely seen in tall trees. On the 
ground, or near it, is the nest of leaves and 
twigs, lined with fine rootlets. The eggs are 
plain greenish blue. 

The call note of the Veery is a clear whistle, 
" whe-eu" or " whoit" The song has been de- 
scribed as a "sylvan mystery, reflecting the 
sweetness and wildness of the forest, a vocal 
will-o-the-wisp. " Mr. Chapman calls it a "weird 
monotone of blended alto and soprano notes." 
Mr. Burroughs describes it thus: "The soft mel- 
low flute of the Veery fills a place in the chorus of 
the woods that the song of the Vesper Sparrow 
fills in the chorus of the fields. It has the 
Nightingale's habit of singing in the twilight of 
a June day, and when fifty rods distant, you will 
hear their soft reverberating notes rising from 
a dozen throats. It is one of the simplest strains 
to be heard, as simple as the curve in form, de- 
lighting from the pure element of harmony and 
beauty it contains. " 

As I hear the Veery on the river bank at night, 
its tones seem much like those of the Jew's 
harp; nearer, this song is more reedy and melo- 
dious. It sounds much like the word v-e-e-r-y 



94 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

rolled over and over in a series of intertwining 
circles. 

The upper parts of this bird are a nearly 
uniform cinnamon-brown, duller than the color 
of the Wood Thrush. The under parts are 
white, except the breast which is tinged with 
buff, faintly marked with spots of brown. It is 
slightly smaller than the Wood Thrush. Their 
nesting range is from New Jersey to Newfound- 
land. They also spend the summer in the Alle- 
gheny Mountains as far south as North Caro- 
lina. They winter in the tropics, as do all this 
family. 

The Olive-backed Thrush. (Swainson's 
Thrush.) This Thrush, when seen in its northern 
migration, is usually silent and will not be found 
unless one looks carefully for it. They are in 
small bands that keep to cover, appearing about 
New York in the middle of May. They are to be 
seen for a few days only, then pass along to 
summer homes in the evergreen woods of the 
North. I hear them singing in the middle 
heights of the Catskills in late May, and again 
in the spruce woods of northern Maine later in 
the year I find them in abundance. There they 
are the most common Thrush; the Hermit is 
rarely heard and only occasionally the Veery, 
but the Olive-backed sings in every spruce 
thicket. 

In migration they have several call notes, 
"chick" "pit" "peep" but in the nesting 
grounds, when I invade their dark domain, I 
hear only a sharp "puck, puck." They are good 
singers, in tone quality somewhat resembling 



OUR BEST SINGERS 95 

the Hermit, but are not so leisurely and serene. 
When I first heard these Thrushes I was quite 
puzzled, for I thought they must be young 
Hermits. A little experience, however, soon 
taught me to distinguish, and never since have 
I been troubled. Their songs are heard at inter- 
vals throughout the day, but toward night their 
efforts are almost continuous. Their opening 
notes are brilliant, and one is led to expect a 
splendid performance, only to be disappointed 
with the closing strain. 

The upper part of this Thrush's dress is a 
uniform olive, rather dull in effect. The throat 
and breast are cream buff, the sides of the 
throat and breast having wedge-shaped spots 
of dark brown. The eye ring is buff. They 
usually build in evergreen trees, eight to ten 
feet above the ground, a compact, cup-shaped 
nest of twigs, grass, leaves, moss, etc., lined with 
fine roots and moss. The eggs are four or five in 
number, greenish blue in color, spotted with 
cinnamon-brown. They range in summer from 
northern New England and New York to Lab- 
rador. 

Gray-cheeked Thrush. This bird is com- 
paratively a stranger to the majority of bird 
students. Only during migration are we allowed 
even a glimpse, and that is only for those who 
look closely; for they often travel in company 
with the Olive-backed, which they so closely 
resemble in color as to be almost impossible to 
identify, unless one has both in his hands. 
Their numbers at best are not large. They are 
shy, and when found are pretty sure to get 



96 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

quickly out of eye range. This Thrush breeds 
far north of the United States, well up toward 
the Arctic, hence is known as the Arctic Thrush, 
and also as Alice's Thrush. In song and habits 
they are believed to resemble the following 
species. 

Bickneirs Thrush. This Thrush seeks the 
upper heights of mountains in New York State 
and New England. It is seldom found, except 
during migration, at an altitude less than three 
thousand feet. It is much like the Gray-cheeked 
in color, but the general effect of its plumage is 
brighter; it is also a somewhat smaller bird. 
Of its song Mr. Brewster says: "The song is 
exceedingly like that of the Veery, having the 
same ringing, flute-like quality, but it is more 
interrupted and ends differently, the next to 
the last note dropping a half tone and the final 
one rising abruptly and having a sharp empha- 
sis. " I found this thrush on the wooded slopes 
of Mt. Katahdin at an elevation of approxi- 
mately four thousand feet. But it was late in 
August, the nesting season was over and the 
song period as well. They were shy and restless, 
keeping well hidden in the thick evergreens. 

Robin. To this famous family belongs our 
old friend the Robin, for a Thrush he is, as you 
will readily prove to your entire satisfaction if 
you will make a careful study of his song. It is 
not an easy matter in a limited space to do 
justice to this great friend of man, for a volume 
could be written about him, his friendliness, 
conversation, nesting habits, song and travels. 
While there is much we already know about this 



OUR BEST SINGERS 97 

vigorous songster, there is much more we do 
not know. How long do they live? Where do 
those particular birds winter that were raised 
in your dooryard, or in your shade trees? Do 
the same birds really come back to you and nest 
in the same spot year after year? Do they 
retain the same mate? What do they say to 
each other in all the varied conversations they 
carry on? These and many other interesting 
queries about this common bird remain to be 
answered by bird students. Is this not an inter- 
esting field for investigation ? 

Robin is perhaps the most common bird about 
the homes of men. In the shade trees and parks 
of the city, about the village streets, in the door- 
yard of the farmhouse, in field and pasture, 
along the bushy banks of the river, in second 
growth, in fact nearly everywhere in the open, 
rarely in the dense forests, this sturdy house- 
holder is found during the nesting season. But 
in the fall after the last brood is well grown, 
they flock and often retire to the woods and less 
frequented localities where they become shy 
and rather restless wanderers. 

While the nest is always the same rough struc- 
ture of mud and grass, the nesting site varies 
according to circumstances. In city streets and 
parks it is placed on a limb often thirty or forty 
feet high. About the farm it may be in a low bush 
or tree, only a few feet above the ground; or 
perchance, under the roof of the porch, or over 
a window cap. In fact it may be found in any 
convenient location, regardless of its exposed 
position, for the bird has very little idea of con- 



98 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

cealment. On the shelf at the corner of the eave 
of our house, close against the wall of the little 
chalet which is usually occupied by Tree Swal- 
lows, a pair of Robins nested for three years in 
succession, each year building the new nest over 
the old, the structure finally reaching three 
stories in height. 

Robins rear two or three broods each year, 
sometimes in the same nest, often in a new one 
at some distance from the first. This year when 
we arrived at our country home as usual we at 
once looked up our bird friends. We found Phoebe 
under the roof of the porch, Chippy and Song 
Sparrow in the vines, Tree Swallow in the little 
green house, but no Robin in his accustomed 
place on the grillework under the veranda. 
They were seen, however, pulling worms about 
the lawn, and a little watching located the nest 
on the river bank some forty rods away. In 
early July, as a home site for their second brood, 
to our great delight they moved into a low elm 
right across the road in front of the lawn. A 
nest was soon built and they settled down to 
their domestic affairs with all the appearance 
of that deep satisfaction which these birds 
exhibit during nesting time. Early one morning 
a little later we heard a great outcry from them 
and on going out found they had disappeared. 
The nest showed signs of a struggle, being awry 
and somewhat torn. Two eggs were in it, but 
it was abandoned, and our regret and disap- 
pointment were great. A pair of Shrikes were 
seen sneaking about the grounds and the crime 
was laid at their door by the members of our 



OUR BEST SINGERS 99 

household, but I am not at all sure they were 
guilty. The tragedies of the nests are many. 
The wonder is that birds are able to maintain 
their numbers at all in the face of so many 
dangers. 

The Robin is one of the very first comers in 
the spring, while there are still many snowbanks 
about and the winds are chill. I look for them 
in Prospect Park in the early days of March. 
At first they are obliged to feed on last year's 
fruits and berries, for usually the frost is not 
out of the ground so early and, in consequence, 
the supply of earthworms is not yet available. 
Often they frequent the orchard for the pulp 
of the apples left from last year's crop, now 
rendered soft by the winter's freezing. For a 
few weeks, until the angleworms are ready, 
their food problem is a hard one. Then all theii 
troubles are over, and the greening lawns are 
dotted here and there with these vigorous birds. 

No doubt a few Robins winter as far north 
as Massachusetts in sheltered places where 
berries may be had during the cold months. 
But the great majority migrate in flocks to the 
sou;th, Georgia and Florida being favorite win- 
ter haunts. There they roam about in search of 
food which is not always available for so many 
birds, even in those regions of abundance. In 
the winter of 1911-1912 it was said many died of 
starvation. Mr. Burroughs, in that year, spent 
several weeks on a Georgia plantation and re- 
turning north, told me of finding many dead 
Robins, perished, as he believed, from lack of 
food. One day, finding one weak and apparently 



100 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

sick, he took it to the house and dug worms for 
it. It eagerly devoured the first handful, even a 
second, and flew away evidently fully recovered. 
He concluded from this that many were in a 
starving condition. 

A few weeks before they begin their north- 
ward flight in late January or February, they 
often gather in enormous flocks, a real Robin 
convention, sometimes spreading over several 
square miles of territory. No doubt there are 
hundreds of thousands of birds in one of these 
gatherings, the purpose of which is all a mystery 
to us. After a period of fraternizing, the flock 
breaks up into small bands, and the migration 
is on. When they arrive on their nesting grounds 
they are either alone or in small flocks. 

As a conversationalist the Robin takes high 
rank. No bird so emphatically .expresses the 
varying emotions, and his emphatic alarm notes 
when danger approaches are recognized by all 
the birds in hearing. He is the watchman for 
his neighbors of the open, as the Blue Jay is for 
the forest-dwellers. The song of the Robin, 
clear and bold, and audible at a long distance, 
is rather hurried and nervous, entirely lacking 
the serenity of several of his cousins. But the 
"rain song," his best utterance, is a very inter- 
esting performance, varying much with indi- 
viduals. It has been interpreted thus: 

"I hear the Robins in the lane 
Singing cheerily, 
Cheer up, cheer up, 
Cheerily, cheerily, cheer up." 



OUR BEST SINGERS 101 

The Robin is ten inches long. The upper 
parts are grayish slate-color, the head black 
with a whitish spot over the eye. The wings are 
dark brown, the tail black. The breast is brick- 
red, lighter in the female, fading in summer to 
tan. The throat is streaked with black and 
white, and the bill is yellow. They range over 
eastern North America to the Rocky Moun- 
tains, including eastern Mexico and Canada. 

Bluebirds. Another herald of the spring 
whose presence pleases the eye and gladdens 
the ear is the Bluebird, one of the very first to 
put in an appearance in early March. Their 
winter homes being in the near South, the migra- 
tion journey is not long. When the feel of spring 
first touches their hearts they respond by taking 
up the northward flight, and in a few days 
we are made happier by their presence. The 
male appears about a week earlier than his 
mate, and "with the sky tinge on his back and 
the earth tinge on his breast," as Mr. Bur- 
roughs so perfectly describes his colors, is the 
only bit of bright plumage we have, until Red- 
wing arrives with his gaudy epaulets. 

His happy warble about the orchard and farm 
buildings seems to forecast the summer's 
pleasure he anticipates. No sooner does the 
female arrive than the mating takes place, and 
the happy pair immediately look for a suitable 
tenement. A hollow fence post, stump root, 
abandoned Woodpecker's hole or bird box are 
all regarded as likely situations, and no sooner 
is the choice made than the nest building begins. 
They are not experts in this direction and they 



102 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

do not need to be, as the receptacle itself fur- 
nishes much protection for the brood. In fact 
the nest is merely a bunch of dried grass, loosely- 
put together. The five or six pale blue eggs 
are quickly laid, and in about twelve days the 
nestlings are hatched. The young remain in 
the nest about two weeks, then make their first 
venture into the world clad in their fuzzy, 
short-tailed suits of spotted blue and light. 

Both parents take part in building the nest 
and caring for the young. Usually the male 
tukes charge of the first brood, leading them to 
some secure feeding ground while the indus- 
trious mother rears a second brood. 

We have them as tenants nearly every year, 
and they make delightful neighbors. Some- 
times, after the young are quite grown, just 
before leaving home in the early morning they 
will hop to the near-by windowsill of our chamber 
and peek in, old and young, with much gossip 
which we do not at all understand. 

While Bluebirds are usually regarded as 
gentle and amiable, they will fight fiercely with 
other birds, particularly the English Sparrow, 
for a nesting place. And the male, during incu- 
bation, jealously guards that portion of the 
lawn which he regards as his, fighting vigorously 
and driving away any intruder, be it Robin, 
Swallow, Sparrow, or even the quarrelsome 
Kingbird. 

Their notes in spring, usually uttered from 
a perch, sound like "cherry, cherry, cheer up"; 
in the fall after they have gathered in flocks, 
they wander about uttering the mournful "tur- 



OUR BEST SINGERS 103 

we, tur-zve," perhaps their expression of regret 
at the waning season which will soon necessi- 
tate their departure from the scene of their 
happy home-making. Like the Robin, their 
nests are very generally distributed in park, 
field, pasture, orchard and lawn, but they do 
not frequent the deep woods. Their summer 
range extends over eastern North America to 
the base of the Rocky Mountains, as far north 
as New Brunswick, Ontario and Manitoba. 
They winter from New York southward. 

The plumage of the male is azure blue above, 
the feathers of the wings having dark edgings. 
The throat, breast and sides are brick-red, belly 
white. In the fall the blue is somewhat tinged 
with rusty red. The blue of the female is duller 
and the breast paler. They are about seven 
inches long. 



Chapter VII 
VIREOS 

"Upon the lofty elm-tree sprays 
The vireo rings the changes sweet, 
During the trivial summer days, 
Striving to lift our thoughts above the street." 

— Thoreau. 

The Vireo family is one that will fully repay 
in enjoyment for the time spent in making their 
acquaintance. Because they are summer dwel- 
lers in thick-topped elms, maples and beeches, 
veritable bowers of green, they were called 
Greenlets by the early writers, and the name is 
still used for its evident aptness. There are 
fifty varieties of Vireos in all America, the 
majority of which are found south of the United 
States. Fifteen varieties are known in the 
United States, only five of which are common in 
the East. Their food consists of insects which 
they catch while perched, worms and grubs 
which they glean while slowly moving about 
among the leaves. They also search the crevices 
of the bark for spiders, beetles and caterpillars. 
Thus we see they are very beneficial to man, 
since they destroy countless insects which work 
great injury among the trees of orchard, forest 
and lawn. 

There is a strong family resemblance among 

104 



VIREOS 105 

the Vireos in plumage, form and size. All are 
excellent architects, suspending from the fork 
of a convenient branch at some distance from 
the ground deep basket-like nests of fine bark, 
paper, plant-down and rootlets. They are prob- 
ably, so far as fine work is concerned, our best 
and most artistic nest builders, and so much 
alike are their structures it is not easy to iden- 
tify them unless the nest is associated with its 
maker. 

The Warbling Vireo. A daily visitor to the 
shade trees of our lawn is this plainly dressed 
little Vireo. We are very grateful to him for 
his many careful gleanings of leaf-destroying 
insects, and we should welcome him as a resi- 
dent but he prefers a nesting site in a thick- 
topped maple in a neighbor's dooryard. But 
he sings for us daily, even in the midday heat 
when most birds are silent. His song, as sug- 
gested by the name, is a warble, and while in 
no way to be compared with the splendid per- 
formance of the Purple Finch, it is a pleasing 
melody, flowing and mellow, that suggests to 
you contentment. The most common call note 
is a harsh, squally utterance, much like the call 
of the Catbird, seemingly quite out of harmony 
with the song and general makeup of this other- 
wise attractive bird. 

The Warbling Vireo is a plainly dressed little 
bird, rather smaller than the Song Sparrow. 
The upper parts are ashy olive-green, with head 
and neck somewhat lighter. The whitish under 
parts are washed with yellow, brighter on the 
sides. This bird arrives in early May, ranges 



106 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

as far north as Hudson Bay, wintering in the 
tropics. 

Red-eyed Vireo. Much more conspicuous in 
song than the little bird just considered is his 
larger cousin, the Red-eyed Vireo, or Preacher 
Bird, as he is commonly called from the peculiar 
style of his utterance. He is an inhabitant of 
orchard and shade trees, roadside and city 
parks, as well as the woods, and from his leafy 
retreat at all hours of the day, even at high 
noon, may be heard his emphatic notes. 

This is our most common Vireo, a fearless, 
gentle, lovable bird, usually in good temper, who 
pursues the even tenor of his way with little 
sign of alarm or suspicion when you invade his 
nesting grounds. If in his vicinity, all you need 
do is to wait patiently and he is pretty sure 
to show himself, for he is usually on the move. 

They are plainly dressed and yet their delicate 
shades and smooth feathers make them rather 
handsome birds. The crown is dull gray with 
black stripes on either side, and a distinct white 
line over the eye. Otherwise the upper parts 
are light olive-green; the under parts are pure 
white. The iris of the eye is red, an excellent 
field mark when the bird is near. 

The song of the Preacher is easily identified 
for its characteristic qualities. Henry Ward 
Beecher, ascribing to the bird a devotional 
nature, said of him, "He pauses between each 
morsel of food to give thanks to Heaven," an 
excellent interpretation of his motive. Wilson 
Flagg's description of his song is highly appre- 
ciative: "His style of preaching is not declam- 



VIREOS 107 

atory. We might suppose him to be repeating 
moderately with a pause between each sen- 
tence, 'You see it, you know it, do you hear 
me? Do you believe it?' All these strains are 
delivered with a rising inflection at the close 
and with a pause as if waiting for an answer. " 
Thoreau spoke of him as singing "like a Robin 
at even, incessantly," and there is more sim- 
ilarity in their songs than is here expressed, for 
the notes of the two birds are much alike in tone 
quality. But where the Robin is always hurried 
and evidently anxious to get to the end, the 
Preacher is deliberate, unhurried. 

The summer range of this bird is very exten- 
sive, over the greater part of North America 
from the Gulf to Labrador, even to the Arctic 
regions. They winter from Florida southward. 
The nest of the Red-eyed Vireo is suspended 
from the fork of a limb of maple, birch, elm or 
apple tree. It is made of bits of birch bark, 
hornet's paper and plant fibre, lined with finest 
grass. In the nests I find bits of white birch 
bark are very conspicuous. The eggs are white 
with reddish spots. It is said the male aids in 
incubation, and often sings as he sits on the nest. 
The nesting season is rather late. They arrive 
in New York City in early May and leave 
toward the end of October. 

Yellow-throated Vireo. Like others of the 
family this Vireo spends its time largely in 
the leafy treetops. In migration they are seen 
about city parks and lawns, in the orchard 
and along the roadside. But as the nesting 
season approaches they withdraw to the soli- 



108 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

tude of the woods where is built a house which 
must be at once the joy and despair of every 
other member of this artistic family. It is 
woven of strips of bark and plant fibre, lined 
with fine grass, and covered on the outside with 
dainty lichens, a wonderful little cup at once 
dainty and highly adapted to its purpose. The 
location selected for this wonderful nest 
is often so wild and romantic that you will 
declare it* quite in keeping with the character 
of the nest. 

This is a sleek, rather stoutly built Vireo, 
somewhat smaller than the Preacher, with a 
very attractive suit of light olive-green above, 
bright yellow throat, breast and eye ring, and 
two distinct bars of white on the wings. They 
come to us about May I, and nest from Florida 
to Newfoundland. 

The song of the Yellow-throat resembles that 
of the Preacher, but it is more deliberate, richer 
and fuller, a much more pleasing performance. 
It is often said the Yellow-throat is the con- 
tralto, the Red-eye the soprano of the bird 
chorus. It, too, sings at midday as well as at 
morning and night, and it sings in flight. 

The White-eyed Vireo. This little virago 
of the bird world has a range somewhat less 
extended than the foregoing species. They are 
rare birds in central New England and are 
practically unknown north of that region. 
Farther south, however, in New Jersey and 
Long Island, they are classed as common sum- 
mer residents. 

While they are possessed of considerable 



VIREOS 109 

musical skill, so irritable and ill humored are 
they that they bear a very bad reputation 
among bird students. "Impertinent," is the 
word Mr. Chapman uses in describing them; 
"saucy" and "querulous" are words often 
applied to this scold. Yet Mr. Bradford Torrey 
regards them as possessing much skill in music- 
al expression. The notes of the bird seem to me 
in keeping with its character. They are high 
pitched and emphatic, and it often appears that 
the bird joins together snatches of the songs of 
half a dozen singers in a medley that is both 
highly amusing and remarkably executed. 

This is one of the birds often imposed upon 
by the Cowbird, for with all its irritable temper 
it has a tender heart, or else is very stupid, for 
instead of pitching out of the tiny nest, perhaps 
already rilled with her own eggs, the large egg 
of this lazy intruder, the little mother will 
hatch it and care for the fledgling with the same 
tenderness bestowed upon her own. And it 
often happens that this larger youngster crowds 
out of the nest the rightful occupants. Surely 
the Cowbird has great foresight in the selection 
of a nest in which to lay her egg, for she could 
scarcely find a kinder-hearted mother, with all 
her shrewish habits of temper. 

The White-eyed Vireo is slightly smaller than 
the Warbling. The upper parts are bright olive- 
green with washings of gray. The under parts 
are whitish, the breast and sides washed with 
light yellow, and there are two distinct wing 
bars. The iris is white, and there is a yellow 
ring around the eye. Its nesting habits are much 
like those of the Solitary. 



110 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

Solitary Vireo. This bird is also known as 
the Blue-headed Vireo, because of the handsome 
bluish-gray color of the crown and sides of the 
head. While it is not a rare bird, it is a forest- 
dweller and far from abundant, though one 
could easily wish to have them for intimate 
friends, so lovable are they. Its songs are varied 
both in tone and quality. Its chief performance 
is something like that of the Red-eyed, but has 
a tenderness all its own. It has been called a 
"pure, serene uplifting of its loving nature." 
Its most common utterance is a musical chatter, 
strangely resembling the notes of the Baltimore 
Oriole, and it also has a flowing warble, tender 
and thrilling, rather an unusual repertory you 
will say for so modest a little creature. They 
are exceedingly tame and trustful, especially 
when nesting. It is said one may approach 
close to the nest, even freely stroking the sitting 
bird, but probably this is true only in rare 
cases. 

The Solitary is the first of the Vireos to arrive 
in the spring, reaching the vicinity of New York 
in April, and the last to depart in the fall. Their 
notes are heard even as late as September. 
They nest in the woods, building, as do all their 
relatives, a wonderful little cup-shaped nest, 
which is suspended from a limb several feet 
above the ground. The eggs are white, sparsely 
speckled with umber. 



Chapter VIII 

A SUMMER CHORUS 

Bobolinks, Orioles, Cowbirds, Blackbirds, 
Meadow Larks 

"June's bridesman, poet o' the year, 
Gladness on wings, the bobolink, is here; 
Half hid in tip-top apple-blooms he swings, 
Or climbs against the breeze with quiverin' wings, 
Or givin' way to't in a mock despair, 
Runs down, a brook o' laughter, thru the air." 

— Lowell. 

Several birds, so widely different in feeding 
and nesting habits, plumage and song that it 
is not easy to see the resemblance usually noted 
among members of a family, are considered in 
this chapter. They are for the most part gre- 
garious after the young are reared. Their food 
is varied — seeds, fruits, berries and insects. It 
is an American family, most abundant in Cen- 
tral and South America. 

Bobolink. Each year when, about the twentieth 
of June, I arrive in our little valley in Maine, 
the broad, upland fields about our house are 
fence full of lush herdsgrass and clover, thickly 
strewn with buttercups and daisies. Many 
birds nest in this excellent cover, the most con- 
spicuous of which, if not the most abundant, is 
the Bobolink. Not only does his gay suit compel 

in 



112 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

attention, but his song is heard throughout the 
day as he hovers on trembling wing above his 
ground-set nest, or swings and sways on the 
stout grass stalks. His best musical efforts are 
heardwhen the bird is on the wing, and what a 
singer he is! His rollicking, bubbling, tinkling 
notes roll and tumble from his throat in a tor- 
rent that seems to have its source in an inex- 
haustible fountain of melody. There is no 
describing his song in words, but Wilson Flagg's 
"The O'Lincoln Family" is very suggestive: 



'Every one's a funny fellow; every one's a little fellow; 
Follow, follow, follow, follow o'er the hill and in the hollow, 
Merrily, merrily there they hie; now they rise and now they fly; 
They cross and turn, and in and out, and wheel about and down the 

middle 
With a phew shew Wadolincon; listen to me Bobolincon, 
Happy's the wooing that's speedily doing, that's speedily doing, 
That's merry and over with the bloom of the clover; 
Boblincon, Wadolincon Winterseeble, follow, follow me!" 



The notes of this meadow minstrel are indeed 
"over with the bloom of the clover," for when 
the scythe invades his grassy home his song 
dies as though the warder of the season had 
issued a stop order. The song is not dropped 
in a single day, but piecemeal, and with its dis- 
appearance there is heard his call note, a highly 
metallic " chink " that is not heard earlier in the 
season. Thoreau said of his notes, "They are 
refreshing to my ear as the first distant tinkling 
and gurgling of a rill to a thirsty man. . . . 
But away he dashes and the meadow is all 
bespattered with melody. His notes fall with 
the apple blossoms in the orchard. " The Bobo- 



A SUMMER CHORUS 113 

link's notes have been called a species of musical 
fireworks. 

Of his dress, Bryant sang: 

"Robert of Lincoln is gayly drest, 

Wearing a bright black wedding coat. 
White are his shoulders and white his crest, 
Hear him call in his merry note!" 

Add to this description that the neck and mid- 
dle of the back are corn-yellow and the tail 
feathers sharply pointed, and you have a good 
picture of a feathered dandy. But how different 
is the color of his little mate. Yet her "Quaker" 
dress is much better adapted to her domestic 
cares, sitting on the nest and tending the 
youngsters among the brown grass stalks. The 
color of her back always reminds me of the 
brown of the Meadow Lark, another inhabitant 
of the grass fields that surround our home. 
Her dress above is olive-buff streaked with dark 
brown and there are two distinct black stripes 
on the head. The under parts are yellowish 
white. At the moulting, which follows the nest- 
ing season, the male changes to the colors of the 
female, donning a traveling suit, as it were. 
Then they gather in flocks and frequent the 
grain fields, and by mid-August begins the long 
journey to their winter home in far-away Brazil. 

As they travel through the Middle States, 
they are known as Reed Birds, and farther 
south as Rice Birds, from their feeding habits. 
Under these names they are, alas! classed as 
game birds, and thousands of their fat bodies 
are eaten in the fall by Southern epicures. It 



114 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

may be said in extenuation of what seems to the 
bird-lover of the North a heartless killing of one 
of our most attractive birds, both in song and 
plumage, that the hunters of the marshes of 
Maryland and the rice fields of the Carolinas 
never see Robert Lincoln at his best. To them 
he is plain of plumage, without song, his only 
utterance at that time being his metallic "chink" 
and he is so fat from constant gorging with food 
that his skin breaks when he falls under the 
hunter's aim. Notwithstanding this, however, 
I cannot bring myself to believe that the killing 
of this splendid bird is in any way justified, and 
my earnest prayer is for uniform protection of 
him in all our States. 

The nest is made of coarse grass, lined with 
fine grass and usually placed on the ground. 
The five or six eggs are grayish-white, mottled 
with irregular olive-brown. They nest from 
northern New Jersey northward to Nova Scotia 
and west to Utah. They appear in early May. 

Cowbird. There could scarcely be imagined 
a greater contrast in all those characteristics 
that make a bird attractive to man, than that 
which exists between the Bobolink and the 
Cowbird. As we have seen, the former is at- 
tractive in song and dress and lovable in every 
way; the latter is unattractive in coloring, 
without song, and in its habits a despised and 
detested bird. Not because of plain colors or 
lack of musical ability is this estimate put upon 
him, but because they utterly refuse to assume 
the cares of rearing a brood, shifting their domes- 
tic duties upon some little mother perhaps 



A SUMMER CHORUS 115 

already overburdened with her own affairs. 
Thus they are the pariahs, the outcasts of the 
bird world. 

Cowbirds neither build nests, hatch their 
eggs, nor feed their fledglings. Instead, this 
unnatural bird sneaks into the nests of defence- 
less Warblers, Vireos, and Sparrows, laying an 
egg here and there until her full brood is depos- 
ited, leaving the future of eggs and nestlings to 
the tender mercies of the nest owners. In this 
way the eggs may be scattered in a half dozen 
nests. The young bird is much larger than the 
other nestlings and grows so rapidly it soon fills 
the nest, to the discomfiture and distress of the 
rightful occupants. Sometimes the tiny in- 
mates are pushed out of their own home by this 
overgrown intruder. It is not easy to explain 
why the mother bird does not pitch out the egg 
of the Cowbird as soon as it is deposited. In- 
stead, it often seems that she will bestow upon 
egg and young even more tender care than upon 
her own. It is a strange sight to see a dainty 
Warbler or Vireo feeding a clumsy young Cow- 
bird, much larger than herself. But these anom- 
alies give to bird study an added interest. As 
soon as the young Cowbirds are able to fly, they 
seek their own and remain in flocks till they 
depart in late fall. 

Cowbirds appear early in the spring in small 
bands, alone, unless with English Sparrows, for 
they are shunned by self-respecting birds. They 
are seen with the cattle in the pasture, picking 
up the insects disturbed by the grazing. It is an 
interesting sight to see them perched and quietly 



116 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

resting on the backs of the cattle as they lie 
peacefully chewing their cuds after the morn- 
ing's feeding is over. 

The color of the male is rich coffee-brown on 
the head, neck and breast; elsewhere the plu- 
mage is shiny black. The female is dark slate- 
brown above, lighter below. They breed as far 
north as lower Canada and winter from New 
Jersey southward. The egg is white, evenly 
sprinkled with cinnamon-brown. This bird is 
eight inches in length. 

Meadow Lark. While this bird bears the 
name Lark, it does not properly belong to that 
distinguished family, whose best-known mem- 
ber is the famed Skylark of Europe. The 
Meadow Lark was not a resident of our valley 
in my youth, but first appeared there some 
twenty years ago and now is a very common 
summer resident; in fact he is with us most of 
the year, for he comes early and stays late. In 
the Middle States he is classed as a permanent 
resident. But the great majority of them move 
southward in late autumn, wintering in the near 
Southern States. I do not find them in the 
parks of New York City, but in the open fields 
in the suburbs, Flatbush, Flatlands and Bath 
Beach they are common enough. 

Their ringing notes, "Spring o' the year," 
are very welcome sounds, especially in March 
and April when the ear is eager for bird song. 
From the topmost branch of a tree, from a 
telephone pole, even from so low a perch as the 
stone wall he whistles his clear and musical 
strain. But thus exposed he is rather shy, and 




MEADOW LARK 



A SUMMER CHORUS 117 

quickly takes wing, as you approach, with a 
peculiar, fluttering, trembling motion, half fly- 
ing, half sailing to a safer location in the fields 
of grass. Besides this song he has a series of 
rather harsh, grating calls, rather unpleasant to 
the ear, especially when the bird is alarmed. It 
is said his western cousin far surpasses him as a 
vocalist. 

Probably the greatest attraction of the 
Meadow Lark is his fine plumage which presents 
a symphony of coloring that is not surpassed 
among birds. So perfectly do the streaked 
black, brown and gray of his back harmonize 
with the color of the grass stubble where he 
lives, that were he to keep quiet, he would rarely 
be discovered. The sides and under parts are 
whitish, spotted with black, except the breast 
which is a beautiful yellow with a very distinct 
black crescent. The outer tail feathers are 
white, a most conspicuous field mark in flight. 

When the Meadow Lark lights, if he sees you 
looking at him, he shakes and flutters his tail 
as though in anger at your presence. He will 
watch you for a moment and then take up his 
search for food, skulking through the grass much 
like a young turkey in pose and movement. 
Although- rather shy, they sometimes nest within 
a hundred feet of our lawn. The structure of 
coarse grass, lined with finer grass, always on 
the ground, is sometimes roofed over. The eggs, 
four to six in number, are white, thickly spotted 
with fine brown spots. 

The summer range of the Meadow Lark is 
broad, from the Gulf of Mexico to New Bruns- 



118 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

wick and Minnesota. They winter from Massa- 
chusetts southward and return to us in early- 
March. They are nearly eleven inches in length 
and rather plump. Formerly they were con- 
sidered as game birds and annually hunted by 
the man with dog and gun. 

Orchard Oriole. A bird seen about the shade 
trees and wooded parks of our Northern cities 
as well as in the orchards and shade trees of 
the farm is the Orchard Oriole, a bird of re- 
finement in dress, song and manners. It does 
not range so far north as the more abundant 
variety, the Baltimore Oriole, and can scarcely 
be classed as a common bird in New England; 
but in the Middle States they are found in 
goodly numbers. 

The dress of the male is much less showy than 
that of his cousin, and some there are who re- 
gard it as in better taste. The head, neck, 
throat and upper back are black, the rump and 
under parts rich chestnut, while the wings and 
tail are olive-brown tipped with whitish. With 
the female the upper parts are olive-green, the 
head and rump brighter. The wings are olive- 
brown tipped with whitish, the under parts dull 
yellow. 

As a singer the Orchard Oriole excels in ex- 
pression and flexibility of its short, clearly 
voiced notes, and there is much of the same 
quality manifest in the full clarion-like song of 
its brilliant relative. This bird seems very happy 
as it works about its nest in the sweet-scented 
orchard, its snatches of melody a spontaneous 
voicing of its gratitude. 



A SUMMER CHORUS 119 

The Orchard Oriole is an excellent nest 
builder. He suspends from a conveniently- 
forked branch, a basket-like structure skillfully- 
woven of fibrous materials and neatly lined with 
fine grass and hair. Sometimes it is placed in the 
fork of a branch. The eggs are three to five in 
number, bluish white, marked, spotted and 
scrawled with dark brown or black. This bird 
is about seven and one-half inches long. They 
range in summer from the Gulf States to Massa- 
chusetts and Ontario, wintering in the tropics. 
They arrive in the vicinity of New York in 
early May. 

Baltimore Oriole. A very handsome mem- 
ber of our summer chorus is the Baltimore 
Oriole, the bird that was found by the early 
settlers of Maryland so proudly wearing the 
orange and black of their leader, Lord Balti- 
more, that he has since borne that distinguished 
name. Flashing about in the treetops, he is so 
brilliant that he has been given the name of 
Firebird. His bold and martial notes would 
attract attention were his dress less showy, for 
his vocal efforts are very prominent in the bird 
choir. He sings in clear, rich tones, slightly 
metallic, a variety of songs, none of which seem 
to be quite finished. His vocabulary also is 
varied, and we hear many clearly whistled notes 
somewhat softer than his songs. Altogether he 
is a very noisy fellow from his arrival in May 
till the nesting time is passed. Then, in com- 
pany with his plainly dressed family, he jour- 
neys about with much conversation to be sure, 
but less of his warlike trumpeting. All in all, he 



120 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

is a splendid musician, enjoyed and admired by 
all who know him. 

As nest builders these Orioles are among our 
most interesting birds. The bag-like structure, 
several inches deep, is woven of horse hair, 
twine, plant fibre, bits of cloth, paper, etc., and 
suspended from the end of a swaying bough, 
usually that of an elm tree. It is lined with hair, 
cotton, etc., a safe and cozy cradle for the nest- 
lings where they may swing and sway in the 
gentle breezes, secure from all harm. We have 
a nest made from twine, which we put out for a 
pair of Orioles that nested for years in an elm 
standing in a neighbor's dooryard. No other 
material enters into the composition of the nest 
except the horse hair, rootlets, and cotton used 
for a lining. It is so securely fastened to the 
forked branch from which it was suspended, that 
it could be removed only by cutting away the 
strings, some of the strongest of which are 
wound round and round the branches, then 
passed through the nest as the main supports. 
As the twine was highly colored, the nest was 
at first rather gaudy, but a season's sun and 
rain faded it not a little. 

Orioles have a bad reputation among owners 
of orchards and vineyards, for they spoil much 
fruit by puncturing it with their sharp bills. It 
is believed, after careful investigation, that the 
thirsty bird is seeking the juice of the fruit. A 
remedy is said to be had by placing vessels of 
water where they may be readily found. Some- 
times the Orioles puncture the white Astrachans 
that ripen in our garden in August. But I have 



A SUMMER CHORUS 121 

little fault to find with them, for their presence 
more than repays the small loss of fruit. Be- 
sides, they do much good by destroying count- 
less beetles, caterpillars, moths, etc., which would 
work much injury to orchard and vineyard. 

The male Baltimore Oriole is a strikingly 
handsome bird. The entire head, throat, upper 
back and neck are black; the black wings are 
edged with white and the tail feathers are orange, 
the outer ones with a black band near the mid- 
dle. The lower back, lesser wing coverts, breast 
and belly are bright orange. With the female 
the black is washed with olive-green and the 
orange is much duller. They retain their bright 
colors after moulting, rather an unusual condi- 
tion. There is a second period of song in August 
and early September. These birds range in sum- 
mer over eastern North America, nesting from 
the Gulf of Mexico to Canada, and wintering 
in Central America. This Oriole is about eight 
inches long. 

Red-winged Blackbird. One of the early 
comers, whose presence gladdens the eye, is the 
Red-winged Blackbird, as he is misnamed, for 
his wings and entire body are coal black, except 
for the shoulders which are a brilliant red edged 
with yellow, a most striking contrast to his 
otherwise somber suit. The sexes, it is said, are 
segregated dur'ng their sojourn in the south,, 
and in consequence the flocks of males precede 
by a few days the females. When they first 
arrive in early March, for a time they roam 
about in a careless way, but with the mating 
season the flocks divide and they seek nesting 



122 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

places, usually in small colonies, about bush- 
grown marshes and cat-tail swamps near water. 
In summer when I approach the boat landing 
at the brook mouth, I am greeted by the harsh 
"chock, chock" or a squeaky " che-we-e-e-e " of 
the male from his perch on the highest bush, 
where he has an unobstructed view of the sur- 
rounding country for a long distance. As I near 
him, he rises on fluttering wing, circles about 
above my head, then as I disappear in the thick 
alders, swings back to his perch with his ringing 
" con-quer-ee, ok-a-lee" In the short marsh 
bushes in the center of the little cove where the 
brook and river join, his mate is carefully tend- 
ing the nest, else her " chuck, chuck " would be 
heard as soon as my approach is announced. 

Each year, in wading boots, I make my way 
out to the nest, so well concealed in the pucker 
brush that I am not sure of its location till quite 
upon it. The nest is a deep, well-made cup of 
coarse grass lined with fine grass, and fastened 
to a bush by twine strings and straws. The 
eggs are pale green with black blotches and 
stripes, as irregular as though scrawled with a 
sharpened stick dipped in ink. The nests are 
not far above the marsh and sometimes a rise of 
water in June overflows and destroys them with 
their contents. 

The plumage of the female Red-wing has a 
peculiar beauty that is realized only when the 
bird is near at hand. The upper parts are black- 
ish streaked with brown, and ashy; the under 
parts are streaked dark and light and the throat 
is yellowish. The male is about ten inches in 



A SUMMER CHORUS 123 

length. The female is notably smaller. They 
range over eastern North America, from the 
Gulf of Mexico to Manitoba and New Bruns- 
wick, and winter from Virginia southward. 

Rusty Blackbird. In late March, or early 
April, you will see small bands of Rusty Black- 
birds about the edges of swamps, bush-grown 
banks of streams, and inland meadows. At first 
they may puzzle you as to their identity, for 
they are rather inconspicuous in color and are 
seen only for a short time when passing through 
to nesting grounds in the North. The spring 
dress of the male is a uniform, glossy black with 
a bluish sheen in the sunshine. Later there 
appears a rusty tinge, which gives the bird its 
name. The female has a fine slate color above, 
with the under parts somewhat duller. Both sexes 
have pale straw-colored eyes like the Grackles. 
Rusty Blackbirds are notably smaller than 
Grackles, being about nine inches in length, the 
approximate size of the Red-wing which they 
resemble in flight and call notes. They breed 
in colonies in swampy thickets that border 
ponds and dead water streams. The nest is built 
of sticks, moss and coarse grass, several feet 
above the ground. Their feeding habits are 
much like other Blackbirds, but there are no 
grain fields to which they may resort. They 
range in summer from the northern part of the 
United States northward, wintering south of 
Virginia. 

Purple Grackle. With the outpost of the 
advancing army in March appears the Purple 
Grackle, a bird whose reputation seems to be 



124 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

worse than his character warrants. I see them 
on the green in Prospect Park, searching for 
food along the banks of the ponds and streams, 
and in the evergreens where they build; and on 
the whole they seem to be rather attractive 
birds. Perhaps I have not seen them at their 
worst, when they are said to destroy the eggs 
and young of small birds and to pull corn exten- 
sively. The glossy black coats of the males 
have a fine metallic lustre as they walk about 
in the sunshine, but the females are duller and 
with little of the iridescence so apparent on the 
male. The ins is bright yellow. 

Purple Grackles are about a foot in length. 
The tail is long and wide, usually held high, 
giving a peculiar pose to the bird when seen in 
profile. They mate early, and by the beginning 
of June their dull-coated youngsters may be 
seen in their first attempts at flying. The 
Grackles are not musical birds. They have a 
series of wheezy calls so harsh and cracked that 
it has been denominated the "wheelbarrow 
chorus. " Their summer range is north to Massa- 
chusetts and they winter in the Southern States. 

Bronzed Grackle. This bird is closely allied 
to the above in color and habits; in fact so nearly 
alike are they in plumage it would be very dif- 
ficult to distinguish between them unless both 
birds were in hand. The Bronzed Grackle is 
without the iridescent bars. Their notes, as I 
have observed, are only a rasping " chack" and a 
wheezy unmusical clatter when they try to sins. 
The food of both species is largely composed of 
beetles, grubs, cutworms, caterpillars, grass- 



A SUMMER CHORUS 125 

hoppers, and the eggs and young of many 
birds. Both species are called Crow Blackbirds. 
The Bronzed Grackles have an unusual range, 
from the Allegheny Mountains and southern 
New England to Newfoundland and the Great 
Slave Lakes west to the Rocky Mountains and 
south to Texas and Louisiana. They winter in 
the lower Mississippi region and Mexico, rarely 
in New England. I find them about my home 
in Maine, but the Purple Grackle is unknown 
there. 



Chapter IX 
WOODPECKERS 

' Ah! there is the note of the first flicker, a prolonged, 
Monotonous wick-wick-wick-wick-wick-wick, 
But how that single sound peoples and enriches all the 
Woods and fields! It seems to put a life into 
Withered grass and leaves and bare twigs and henceforth 
The days shall not be as they have been. " 

— ■ Thoreau. 

Woodpeckers are the carpenters, or wood 
cutters, of the bird world. The structure of the 
skull and the sharp-edged, chisel-like bill are 
well adapted to the cutting and pecking habits 
of these birds, by which means they obtain 
their food supply and excavate their homes. 
They are also supplied with long, slender and 
very sharp-pointed tongues which, may be ex- 
tended to some length, excellent implements 
for impaling and withdrawing the exposed grub. 
With the exception of one variety, Woodpeckers 
are rarely seen upon the ground. They are 
creepers and climbers, the structure of the feet 
being the best possible to aid them in clinging 
to the perpendicular tree trunks, or to the under 
side of horizontal limbs. Stability is given to 
the body while in such position by the stiff 
spines of the tail feathers which make excellent 
braces. Thus we see in these birds that form and 
structure of the various parts best adapted to 
their habits. 

126 



WOODPECKERS 127 

Woodpeckers have no gift of song, but in- 
stead, in the mating season, as a love call, they 
beat a lively tattoo upon some dead limb. All 
the family, however, do have shrill call notes 
characteristic of the various species. 

This is a very large family distributed generally 
throughout the earth. There are about twenty- 
five varieties in the United States, eight of 
which are common in the East. All have similar 
nesting habits, building in a hole of their own 
excavation in dead tree or stub, a loose nest. 
The eggs are uniformly white. 

Hairy Woodpecker. This very active friend 
of the farmer is more often found in wooded 
sections where there are plenty of dead and de- 
caying trees which invite the exercise of his 
trade. In cold weather they are frequently seen 
about the orchard and trees of the lawn, where 
they render valuable service in the destruction 
of eggs and larvae of injurious insects. 

If you watch him at work on the trunk of a 
dead tree, you will see him scramble up, then stop 
to listen for sound of borer, and, when he has 
located one, begin with zest and skill to cut it out. 
His head rises and falls with rapidity and regular- 
ity, the effect of his labors plainly seen by the fly- 
ing chips and bark. When the grub is uncovered, 
out darts the sharp tongue to impale it, and it 
is swallowed with a sharp " cleur" his cry of 
satisfaction with the palatable morsel. 

This Woodpecker is about the size of the 
Robin, ten inches in length. The black and white 
feathers of the back are fine, almost hairlike in 
appearance; hence the name Hairy. The wings 



128 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

are roughly striped with black and white, there 
is a white stripe over the eye, and the under 
parts are white. Thus you see their colors are 
pure white and black. But the male has a 
striking feature, a bright red patch on the nape 
of the neck, which the female does not have. 
Their size distinguishes them from their smaller 
cousins, the Downies. 

They are found as permanent residents 
throughout the Eastern States, north of the 
Carolinas, but are more common in the northern 
portion of their range. Their nest is usually in 
a hole in a more or less decayed tree, having its 
entrance toward the east or south, The hole 
extends into the tree a short distance, then 
turns downward for a foot or so, ending in a 
chamber where are laid the three to seven shiny- 
white eggs. One can hardly imagine a safer nest- 
ing site, and it seems there must be fewer 
tragedies among Woodpeckers than among birds 
nesting in the open. Yet, no doubt, prowling 
red squirrels and weasels often find them out. 
They are solitary birds, practically never seen 
in flocks and usually alone, except in the nest- 
ing season. 

Downy Woodpecker. The relationship be- 
tween Downy and Hairy Woodpeckers is very 
apparent in form, color and habits. In fact the 
Downy seems to be just a smaller prototype of 
the Hairy, except for slight differences in mark- 
ings of the plumage. With the Downy, the 
outer tail feathers are white, barred with black, 
while Hairy has no black on these feathers. 
The male Downy also has the dash of red on the 



WOODPECKERS 129 

nape, which is lacking with the female. The} 
are about seven inches long. 

The Downy is much oftener seen in the open 
country about the lawns and parks of the city, 
in the shade trees and orchards of the farm. 
His gentle call, "peek, peek," softer and more 
pleasing, is a common sound in the springtime, 
and is closely associated with his tapping which 
consists of a long, continuous roll, very rapidly 
executed on some dry, resonant limb, and audible 
at considerable distance. This is his love note, 
and that it is effective in securing a mate is 
evidenced by the numerous families of young 
Downies that will make their whereabouts 
known to you by their almost continuous 
squeaking cries for food as you make your way 
about second-growth woods in late June. Since 
they, too, are skillful wood cutters, the nest- 
ing habits of the Downy are almost identical 
with those of the Hairy. The eggs are usually 
six in number. 

The Downy is a more social fellow than his 
larger cousin, being often seen in company with 
Chickadees, Nuthatches and Brown Creepers. 
He, too, is a great friend of the farmer, since he 
searches out and destroys countless eggs and 
grubs of insect pests. The larger part of the 
tattooing seen on the trunks of old apple trees 
is Downy's work, but instead of its being an 
injury to the tree it is positive proof that he has 
been doing his duty in protecting the tree from 
its too numerous enemies. Farmers are coming 
to appreciate the value of these little assistants, 
and now look upon them with approving eye. 



130 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

They are permanent residents throughout their 
range which extends from Florida to Labrador. 

Arctic Three-toed Woodpecker. This bird 
has a more northern range than the preced- 
ing ' species, being rarely seen in the United 
States, except in the extreme northeastern por- 
tion. In winter they range somewhat farther 
south, but are not then common birds. Since 
they feed almost exclusively on the grubs which 
work in decaying wood in the dead stubs, where 
severe forest fires have raged, or the water in a 
lake has been permanently raised, these birds 
will be found nesting. 

They are in size similar to the Hairy, but they 
have only three toes, two in front, one behind. 
The general color of the upper parts is shiny 
black. There is a bright orange patch on the 
crown of the male only, and the wings are 
spotted and barred with white. The under parts 
are white and there is a white line below the eye. 
They are restless, active birds, rather shy ex- 
cept while nesting. Their flight is rapid and 
somewhat undulating, and their cry is a loud 
shrill "we-e-a, we-e-a" heard as they approach 
and leave the nest. I found these birds nesting 
in June near White Cap Mountain, and also in 
the West Branch region in northern Maine. 

American Three-toed Woodpecker. This is 
another Northern resident, found in summer 
only in the forest sections of our states which 
border upon Canada, and northward to Lab- 
rador. In the winter season they make short 
southern movements to more civilized sections 
where, occasionally, they may be seen about 



WOODPECKERS 131 

farms and orchards. This, too, is a three-toed 
Woodpecker, often called the Ladder-back, a 
name that is very significant, for his back is 
distinctly barred with black and white. He, 
too, has the orange patch on the crown, and the 
black wings are spotted with white. The outer 
tail feathers are black and white, and the sides 
are barred with the same colors. The under 
parts are white. The female does not have the 
crown patch of orange. 

The American Three-toed Woodpecker is more 
silent than the Arctic variety and is not so com- 
mon in the woods I have visited in summer. I 
have more frequently seen them during their 
short winter excursions to the farming sections 
of Maine. Their nesting and feeding habits are 
practically the same as those of their near rela- 
tives, but they are about an inch shorter. 

Pileated Woodpecker. Not only is this the 
largest of our northern Woodpeckers, but in 
many ways he is the most interesting because 
of his wild nature, bold cries, and vigorous skill 
as a wood cutter. He, too, is distinctly a den- 
izen of the dense forests, and while formerly he 
ranged well south in the eastern portions of the 
country, I hear of him now only in the deep 
woods. So tempting a target are they for the 
hunter in the autumn woods, it appears that 
they are lessening in numbers. I have found 
them more abundant and tamer in the pine 
forests of the South than in the spruce growth of 
the North. 

When making your way along some woodland 
trail there will come to your ears a strange 



132 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

sound for such a place, the noise of wood cut- 
ting, a close imitation of the sound made when 
striking a chisel with a mallet. If you listen for 
a time you will also hear the cry of this wood- 
land carpenter, as he ceases his labors momen- 
tarily to send out his bold challenge; or is he 
talking with himself? "Cack, cack, chuck, chuck, 
chuck, chuck, hi, hi" he goes on, and if you are 
so fortunate as to approach near enough to see 
him, you will be surprised at the way he makes 
the chips fly. His red-capped head rises and 
falls with great precision and the sound of rip- 
ping wood and bark is distinctly heard. The 
exposed grub is quickly devoured, and away 
goes this " Cock o' the Woods " in a direct 
flight, with none of the wavy motion peculiar to 
all other members of the family. 

In the thick woods on the hill back of our 
house, one day I found a hemlock tree where a 
Pileated Woodpecker had lately worked, and 
the sight was most surprising. There was a half 
bushel of chips, some of them five inches long 
and an inch wide, cut from the solid wood of 
the tree which appeared to be entirely sound, 
and was about sixteen inches in diameter. He 
had cut eight holes clear to the heart, two of 
which were eight inches long and four inches 
wide, tapering inward. A careful inspection con- 
vinced me that he was not seeking wood borers, 
but that the tree was shaky at heart and black 
ants had ascended to winter there. The holes 
enabled him to reach these acrid insects as they 
passed up and down between the shaky rings 
near the heart of the tree. But what puzzled me 



WOODPECKERS 133 

then, as it does still, was this query: How did 
he know this particular tree was shaky, for its 
external appearance gave me no sign? I after- 
ward found several dead trees gashed and cut 
in his search for wood borers. Being less insec- 
tiverous than most Woodpeckers, they also eat 
cherries, acorns, beechnuts and berries of the 
dogwood. They nest in a large hole far above 
the ground, even as high as seventy-five feet. 
The eggs are four to six in number. 

This is a large bird, seventeen inches in length, 
very striking in color. The upper parts are 
dull blackish with much white on the neck, 
and when he flies much white is seen on the 
wings, the basal feathers of which are half 
white. The whole top of the head is scarlet, so 
much like the cap worn by the Roman soldiers, 
called pileus, that it has given him the name 
Pileated Woodpecker. The throat is white, the 
under parts smoky gray. The female is without 
the red crown. 

Yellow-bellied Sapsucker. This bird seems to 
have acquired among farmers, a bad reputation, 
which, in a degree, he deserves. In addition to the 
insects, eggs and grubs which he finds in the crevi- 
ces of the bark, by drilling holes into the tree 
which quickly fill with sap, he secures a delicacy of 
which he is very fond. This habit has determined 
his name. The sap attracts ants, flies and other 
insects, so that when he returns for his fill of the 
sweet liquid he can also regale himself upon these 
more substantial morsels. He is said to have great 
fondness for the inner layer of newly formed wood 
fibre, the sapwood, which is soft and juicy. 



134 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

Sometimes these sap wells completely girdle 
the trunk and the tree in consequence is killed. 
We have had a good illustration close at hand 
of what a family of sturdy young Sapsuckers 
can do in the way of injuring a tree. Each sea- 
son soon after the first of August, they have 
attacked a cut-leaf birch on the lawn, drilling 
many holes in the bark. It seemed the life of 
the tree was in danger and at first we adopted 
severe measures. But in later years we found 
the danger could be avoided by wrapping the 
trunk with burlap, not a difficult thing to do as 
their attacks were usually made on the body 
below the limbs. But it seems certain that had 
we not taken measures to defend the tree it 
would have been ruined. Even now it is much 
disfigured. 

It is said this is the only Woodpecker to catch 
insects on the wing and he is quite expert at 
fly catching. Not long ago I watched one of 
these birds making frequent forays from his 
perch in the treetops upon passing insects, l'ke 
a veritable Flycatcher. The Yellow-bellied Sap- 
sucker is a migrant that returns in early April 
from a winter spent somewhere in a range ex- 
tending from Virginia to Central America. 
During migration and the mating and nesting 
season that follows, they keep rather close to 
the woods. But after the young are reared, they 
are seen much in the open about parks, shade 
trees, and orchards of the farm; in fact, wher- 
ever there are deciduous trees. The male calls 
his mate by beating a tattoo, but they have a 
few vocal utterances. During migration and in 




FLICKER 



WOODPECKERS 135 

the open they are silent, but in the woods their 
loud discordant screaming "kleur, kleur," is oft 
repeated. 

This is a very handsome bird. The crown and 
throat of the male are deep scarlet; the back is 
marked with black and yellowish-white bars. 
The breast has a black crescent; otherwise the 
under parts are light yellow. The wings and 
tail are barred and spotted with black, and a 
white line passes from the bill below the eye, 
broadening on the neck. With the female the 
throat is white, the crown often black; other- 
wise her dress is the same. They nest from 
Massachusetts northward. They are about 
eight and one-half inches long. 

Flicker. This is a popular bird, for he is said 
to be known under at least thirty-six different 
names. The most common of these in the East 
are Yellowhammer, Golden-winged Wood- 
pecker, High-hole, Yarrup and Clape. He is a 
very handsome fellow, and a general favorite 
with mankind. He possesses beautiful plumage, 
gentle ways, attractive notes and interesting 
habits, and is very tame. Often one comes 
bounding into the trees about our house, and 
sometimes they come quite close on the lawn. 
So trustful and confident are they of man's 
good intention toward them, in the South dur- 
ing the winter I have been almost near enough to 
reach them with my hands. In the city parks 
they are common, finding suitable nesting 
places in tall trees there. Now, effort is being 
made in many places to provide them with such 
attractive homes that their numbers will increase. 



136 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

The Flicker is a bird of the open, and, conse- 
quently, is the best known of his family. As they 
feed upon ants, like the Pileated, they are often 
seen on the ground about decaying logs and 
stumps, where they find a generous supply of 
these insects. Sometimes Flickers visit the 
fields in search of grain and berries; they also 
feed upon nearly all insects within reach. Con- 
sequently they are less given to drilling for 
grubs than most Woodpeckers. 

Their flight is deeply scalloped, a sort of 
bounding process. They are great talkers and 
their voluble conversations are very familiar 
sounds in spring. When several birds meet, with 
much bowing and scraping, a common note is a 
low, melodious "wick, wick, wick." Another 
call is a rapidly repeated "chu, chu, chu, chu, 
chu, chu," and a shrill "kee-yer, kee-yer," is 
more often heard in the fall. There are other 
notes, all characteristic of this interesting sum- 
mer visitor. 

In plumage the Flicker is one of our hand- 
somest birds, presenting a variety of beautiful 
colors. The head and neck of the male are 
bluish gray with a scarlet patch on the nape. 
The back and wings are brownish with black 
bars, the rump white. The under surface of the 
wings and tail is yellow, the belly and sides light, 
thickly spotted with black. There is a black 
stripe on either side of the throat and a black 
crescent on the breast. The female lacks the 
black patch on the throat, but otherwise has 
the same coloring. When at rest, the Flicker is 
best known by the scarlet nape and black cres- 



WOODPECKERS 137 

cent on the breast. In flight an excellent field 
mark is the white rump and the golden lining of 
wings and tail. Their range in summer is west 
to the Rocky Mountains and Alaska, from 
North Carolina to northern Canada. They 
winter from Massachusetts southward. 

Red-headed Woodpecker. Sometimes in sum- 
mer when passing through their haunts I 
see from a railway train this conspicuously 
marked Woodpecker, flying slowly along and 
alighting on some stub not far from the track; 
and through the open window, even above the 
din of the train, I hear his harsh "ker-ruck," 
which has been likened to the cry of a treetoad. 
This bird was unknown to me in Maine, except 
by reputation, and he is not a common bird in 
any part of New England. It is said they, too, 
have fallen victims to the man with the gun, 
seemingly the inevitable penalty for wearing 
conspicuous dress. Mr. Burroughs speaks of 
them as having been numerous as Robins about 
Washington during the Civil War, but now they 
are less abundant throughout their range. 

This, too, is a very handsome bird, but less 
beautiful than the Flicker. The head, neck, 
throat and upper breast are deep red; the back, 
rump and under parts white. The wings and 
tail are bluish black, the wings with white bars 
plainly seen in flight. Their appearance on the 
wing is not unlike the European Magpie, except 
that they are notably smaller. The Red-head 
is about nine inches in length, the Magpie nearly 
a foot. 

This Woodpecker, too, feeds on grubs and 



138 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

worms found in decaying wood, and he eats 
fruits, as peaches, plums, grapes, and a variety 
of berries and other vegetable kind. They 
also feed upon nuts, acorns, beechnuts, and 
they have the reputation of destroying the eggs 
and young of other birds, something hard to be- 
lieve in so tame and, withal, so gentle a bird. 
They nest in old trees and sometimes in holes cut 
in telephone poles; but, with the exception of the 
Flicker, they seem less skillful in using their 
bills than other members of the family. Both 
male and female help at the work of excavating. 
They are tame birds, seen about the city parks 
and shade trees of the village, always conspic- 
uous for their red, white and black. 

Red-heads have the unusual habit of storing 
up food, nuts of various kinds, in convenient 
holes about wooden fences, and in the crevices 
of the rough bark of certain trees. This supply 
of food sometimes keeps them from migrating, 
although the great majority spend the cold 
months in Virginia and farther south. Their 
summer range covers southern New England, 
the middle and Southern States, and they are per- 
manent residents in the southern portion of 
their range, sometimes, as we have seen, even in 
New York State. 



Chapter X 

WINTER COMRADES 

Brown Creeper, Nuthatches, Tits, 
Kinglets, Jay and Crow 

"Winter comrades, well betide ye, 
Friendly trunk and hollow hide ye, 
Hemlock branches interlace, 
When the northern blast gives chase. " 

— Edith M. Thomas. 

Brown Creeper. This little bird is the only 
American representative of a family which num- 
bers in all the world a dozen varieties, but he 
may be regarded as typical of his kind. In the 
Northern States he is found more frequently 
in winter, and is probably a permanent resident 
throughout that portion of his range. 

I often find Brown Creepers in the winter 
woods in company with Chickadees, Nuthatches 
and Kinglets, so busily searching the bark of 
tree trunks for the eggs and larvae of various 
insects that this seems their only purpose in 
life, and the fact is they are rarely seen doing 
anything else. From the foot of a tree he winds 
his way upward in spirals, supported in his 
course by the sharp spines of his tail feathers, 
which he uses as a brace, like a Woodpecker. 
The trunk searched to his satisfaction, down he 
darts, with a faint metallic squeak, to the foot 

130 



140 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

of another and the same process goes on, hour 
by hour, day by day. He is the symbol of dogged 
persistency, and there is nothing joyous or 
pleasing about him, except the fine harmony 
between the colors of his back and the bark of 
the trees he frequents. So perfect is the protec- 
tive coloring that but for his jerky movements, 
he would usually remain undiscovered. 

The dark brown back is streaked with lighter 
brown, the head and tail are light brown and 
the under parts grayish white. The bill is long 
and slightly curved. He is slightly less than six 
inches long and rather slim. 

During the nesting season it is said they sing 
a dainty little song of five or six notes, wild, 
sweet and very tender, which I have not heard. 
Their accustomed haunt in summer is ever- 
green woods where there are stubs and dead 
trees, behind the loose bark of which the nest is 
placed. It is loosely made of twigs, bits of bark 
and moss, and sometimes with spiders' cocoons. 
The eggs, five to eight in number, are waxy 
white with fine brown spots on the larger end. 
They range in summer from Maine and Minne- 
sota northward, farther south on the moun- 
tains, and winter from Maine southward. 

Nuthatches. These birds are also creepers 
and climbers, but they do not use the tail 
feathers as a brace. Up and down they go, like 
acrobats, now running along the under side of 
a limb like a fly, now scrambling down the trunk, 
head first, in feats that would put to shame the 
most agile Woodpecker. These very active 
little workers receive the name Nuthatch from 



WINTER COMRADES 141 

the habit of placing a nut in a cranny or crevice 
of the bark and hatching it, i. e., breaking it by 
striking with the bill, a process I have never 
witnessed. We have four varieties of this family 
in eastern North America, two of which are 
common. 

White-breasted Nuthatch. This attractive 
bird is more often seen in the open during the 
fall and winter when he is common in parks, 
along the roadside, and about the farm, always 
on a tree. He, too, is social when not nesting, 
and is seen in company with Chickadees, King- 
lets and Creepers, his presence made known by 
a nasal "yank, yank, yank," a peculiar and 
highly interesting sound, wholly unlike the 
notes of any other variety. This is the largest 
of our Nuthatches, slightly more than six inches 
long. Its distinct colors are rather attractive. 
The back is a fine slate blue, the top of the head 
and upper neck black; the dark slate wings are 
edged with black. The sides of the head and 
under parts are white with white markings on 
wings and tail. 

They have long pointed bills, well suited for 
the careful inspection of the crevices of the 
rough bark where they find their food, worms, 
grubs, spiders, ants, beetles, and the eggs and 
larvae of tree-infesting insects. Thus it will be 
seen that these little "circus birds" are very 
helpful to man, for they assist him in preserving 
his trees, whether of forest, orchard or lawn. 
They are always willing workers and never 
strike for higher pay. Does it not seem rather 
strange that man has not risen to a higher ap- 



142 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

preciation of the valuable service of these con- 
stant helpers ? 

These birds are not so well equipped for wood 
cutting as are the Woodpeckers, and, in conse- 
quence, they often nest in the deserted holes of 
these carpenters; or they excavate their own 
chamber in a limb of some hardwood tree, so 
decayed as to make the work easy. The nest is 
made of fine bark, moss and feathers, a soft rest- 
ing place for the five or six tiny white eggs. 
They are found in eastern North America from 
the Gulf to New Brunswick, and are generally 
resident throughout this territory, except in 
the northern portion. 

Red-breasted Nuthatch. This Nuthatch has 
a more northerly range than his larger rela- 
tive, and therefore is not a common bird in the 
Eastern States, except in winter. He is notably 
smaller, only about four and one-half inches 
long, and is easily told by his reddish brown 
breast and the white stripe over the eye. Other- 
wise his colors are much like those of the White- 
breasted. Their nesting and feeding habits are 
much the same, but the Red-breasted also 
enjoy the seeds of fir and spruce cones, which 
they skillfuly extract with their sharp bills; 
consequently they are seen about the evergreen 
forests where their highly nasal cries, "yak, 
yak, yak," are much in evidence. They are 
noisy fellows and their drawling notes, if pa- 
tiently followed up, will often lead one to the 
nest. 

Their usual nesting haunts are the dark woods 
where they excavate for themselves a chamber 



WINTER COMRADES 143 

in some well decayed fir or spruce stub. They 
range in summer from Manitoba and Maine 
northward, wintering from northern United 
States southward. Mr. Knight says he has good 
reason to believe that these birds remain mated 
year after year, a very interesting fact, if true. 
Another little Nuthatch, known as the Brown- 
headed, is found in the South, particularly in 
the pine barrens of the Carolinas where I have 
often found them in winter. In color they are 
similar to the Red-breasted, except that the 
head is brown; their habits are much the same. 

Tufted Titmouse. Classed in the same gen- 
eral family with the Nuthatches is another dis- 
tinct sub-family, the Tits or Chickadees, of 
which we have four varieties in eastern North 
America. The Tufted Tit is a rather common 
bird, of general distribution in his range which 
is from northern New Jersey south to the Gulf 
States. He is easily known by the prominent 
tuft or crest which gives him his name, and his 
common notes, " peto, peto, peto" heard at all 
hours of the day. He also utters a " de-de-de-de" 
so much like the notes of his more northern 
cousin, the Chickadee, as to plainly indicate 
the relationship. In pose and movement this 
bird seems a miniature Blue Jay, but it is more 
given to sociability. In winter they are in flocks, 
and when insects are not to be had they feed 
upon nuts and seeds which they easily crack 
with their strong bills. 

Their chief color is a pale ashy gray; the 
wings and tail are darker and the forehead is 
black. The under parts are whitish, washed 



144 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

■ >" ■ ' 

with brown on the sides. Like Nuthatches, 
they nest in deserted holes of Woodpeckers, 
rarely excavating their own chambers. Some- 
times they nest in bird houses. They are about 
six and one-half inches in length. They are 
usually permanent residents throughout their 
range. 

Chickadee. A very attractive little fellow in 
song, dress and habits is the friendly Chick- 
adee, or Black-capped Titmouse. When the 
storms of winter have covered the earth in a 
heavy mantle of white and the chill winds blow 
drearily through the leafless trees, this hardy 
little citizen is much in evidence, for severe 
weather conditions seem to have no terrors for 
him. Then their sprightly notes are heard about 
the farmhouse and in the park; and so fearless 
are they that with little encouragement they will 
come close about your habitation. 

In truth, with a little cultivation, Chickadees 
may be made so friendly and fearless that they 
will light upon hat or hand, even feeding upon 
a morsel held between the lips. Mr. Harold 
Baynes relates some most interesting experi- 
ences of this kind. 

In winter you will come upon a band of Chick- 
adees, merrily searching the trunk, branches, 
even the cones and needles of evergreens for the 
eggs and grubs of insects, which comprise their 
food. They, too, are excellent acrobats, climb- 
ing about like spiders, now clinging to the under 
side of a limb, now hanging, head downward, 
never stopping their work except to utter their 
happy " chick-a-dee-dee-dee>" which so clearly 



WINTER COMRADES 145 

proclaims their identity that one never mistakes 
them. It often seems to me they cheer and 
encourage one another at their dreary work with 
their glad notes; and cheering they need, for 
their lot, constant labor in the chill atmosphere, 
is anything but an easy one. This same char- 
acteristic, however, one notes in all the tiny 
midgets that brave the region of our Northern 
winter. No wonder that Emerson said of him: 

"This scrap of valor just for play 
Fronts the north wind in waistcoat gray, 
As if to show my weak behavior. " 

Besides the usual notes which have deter- 
mined the bird's name, it has a variety of trills 
and calls, all of which are pleasant sounds, some 
of them very pleasing. One is a sweet, plaintive 
little strain which I more often hear in the 
spring when the mating season approaches: 
" s-w-e-e-t heart, swe-e-t heart" of which Mr. 
Cheney says: " Never were purer tones heard 
on earth." 

The dress of the Chickadee, like that of most 
northern dwellers, is rather fluffy, and although 
not brilliant in color it is really attractive. The 
most striking feature is the glossy black cap. 
The back is slaty gray, the tail darker. The 
chin is black, the throat and under parts whitish, 
the upper neck and cheeks snow white. It is 
slightly more than five inches long. 

Chickadees nest in a hole either dug by them- 
selves or cut by a Downy, often only a few feet 
above the ground. In such a chamber is built a 
nest of bits of birch bark, wood fibre and plant 



146 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

down, lined with feathers, a safe place for the 
six to eight tiny white eggs spotted with brown. 
Last spring, one day while fishing in the Never- 
sink, a Chickadee flew to a birch tree near me, 
with something white in his bill, which he quickly 
dropped and disappeared. In a moment, back he 
came similarly laden. This he repeated several 
times, and finally I traced him to a small maple 
stub where the pair were excavating a hole for the 
nest, not more than eighteen inches from the 
ground. The dead wood was all carried away, 
evidently in order that its presence about the 
stub should not betray the location of the nest. 

Chickadees range in summer over eastern 
North America from Pennsylvania to Labrador. 
In winter they make a southern movement, 
but are permanent residents in New England 
and the Middle States where they are more 
numerous in the fall and winter. As they usually 
nest in the woods they are not often seen in the 
open until the young are grown. 

Carolina Chickadee. A smaller variety, scarcely 
more than four inches long is called the Caro- 
lina Chickadee. They are much like the above 
in dress, with somewhat less white on the wings 
and tail. Their range is from southern New 
Jersey southward. In the pinelands of the Caro- 
linas where I find them in winter, their habits 
in feeding seem much the same, but their "chicka- 
dee" notes are pitched higher and several of 
their calls are not uttered by the Black-cap. 

Hudsonian Chickadee. From northern Maine 
northward there is found, usually in dense 
woods, another member of this family known 



WINTER COMRADES 147 

as the Hudsonian Chickadee. They differ in 
plumage from our common Chickadee in hav- 
ing a brown cap, and brown on the sides, with 
a brownish tinge on the back. They are about 
the same in length and their notes are somewhat 
similar in quality, particularly the "dee-dee- 
dock" they utter as they feed. I find them in 
the region about the Pleasant River in the 
Maine woods, and about Mt. Katahdin. 

Golden-crowned Kinglet. In fall or winter, 
when making your way among evergreen trees, 
whether it be in park or forest lands, you 
will at times hear high-pitched, wiry sounds, so 
fine that they seem to come from some insect 
that has escaped the clutches of Jack Frost. 
If you are not in a hurry and will take pains to 
follow up these shrill notes, you will find well 
up in the branches of the evergreens, flitting and 
darting about in a manner not unlike Warblers 
in summer, tiny birds with bright-colored 
crowns, that are always on the move. These 
are the Kinglets, two winter visitors that belong 
to a family quite distinct from the Chickadees 
and Nuthatches, yet are often found in their 
company. The more common of these midgets is 
the Golden-crowned, so named from the patch 
of bright yellow on its crown. The upper parts 
are olive-green, with dusky wings and tail. On 
each side of the crown patch are black lines, 
and there is a whitish line over the eye. The 
under parts are grayish white. 

These tiny sprites are scarcely more than 
four inches long, one of the smallest of our 
birds. They are unafraid, and seem engaged in a 



148 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

never ending search for food. That such small 
creatures can withstand the terrible cold of a 
northern winter is one of the unexplained 
mysteries of Nature. Yet they work away in the 
biting cold, apparently as happy as Chickadees, 
now examining the bark at the foot of a tree, 
now among its limbs, clinging to the tips of 
the branches like Chickadees, but even more 
restless and hurried. So rapidly do they move 
about, one needs to be very alert to catch a 
glimpse of their bright crowns through the 
glasses. 

The notes of the Golden-crowned Kinglet are, 
as we have seen, shrill and wiry, "tse, tse, tse, 
ti, ti, ti," not highly musical but very welcome 
in the season so barren of bird song. They nest 
from northern New England northward, usually 
in the evergreen forest. The nest, a well built 
and exceedingly beautiful structure, is made of 
fine bark, rootlets and moss, lined with feathers. 
It is usually placed high above the ground, and 
is pensile or semi-pensile. The tiny eggs, eight 
to ten in number, are creamy white, spotted 
and blotched with brown. The summer range 
of the Golden-crowned is from northern United 
States to Labrador, and southward along the 
Appalachian and Rocky Mountains. It winters 
from the southern portion of its breeding range 
south to Central America. 

Ruby-crowned Kinglet. The general appear- 
ance of this bird is so much like its cousin that 
I am never sure of its identity unless I can 
see its bright red crown or the two whitish wing 
bars. Otherwise its colors are much like the 



WINTER COMRADES 149 

Golden-crowned, and it is slightly larger. But 
if you can hear its song in the springtime there 
will be no doubt of its identity, for the vocal 
performance is all its own. Never shall I forget 
that spring morning in early May when I first 
heard this wild, sweet song. At an early hour as 
I was making my way across an old pasture 
toward a patch of dense woods in quest of birds, 
there came to me far across the open, from a 
dense beech and birch growth at the edge of the 
forest, a thrilling, beautiful song, wholly strange 
to my ear, " cher'-o-wee, cher'-o-wee, cher'-o-wee," 
loud, full, and clear. Hastening in the direction 
of the song I searched a long time for the per- 
former but finally found him, seeing through 
the glasses even his splendid red crown. Though 
it was several years ago, that morning stands out 
distinctly in memory. These Kinglets also have 
fine, wiry call notes, not unlike those of the 
Golden-crowned. 

The feeding and nesting habits of this variety 
are much the same as with the preceding. 
Their summer range is rather farther north, but 
a few nest in Maine. In winter they range from 
North Carolina southward. I have never found 
them during the migration so common as the 
Golden-crowned, and I am inclined to believe 
they are not so numerous. 

Blue Jay. A winter wanderer of great prom- 
inence because of his gaudy colors and vocif- 
erous cries is the Blue Jay. He belongs to the 
same family as the Crows, a group of birds 
found in all parts of the world except New Zea- 
land. The Blue Jay is an excellent example of 



150 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

the truth of the old adage, "fine feathers do not 
make fine birds"; for notwithstanding his hand- 
some suit, one of the most strikingly beautiful 
of the bird world, he seems to be bad at heart, 
often bent on mischief that has a tragic ending. 

During nesting time, like Crows, they are 
strangely silent birds, especially in the vicinity 
of their nests, which I find more commonly 
among evergreen trees. At that season, scarcely 
a sound do you hear, and if you invade their 
precincts you merely catch glimpses of them as 
they silently steal about the treetops. But if 
you venture near their nest then will your pres- 
ence be proclaimed in terms loud and emphatic, 
and if you persist, they will dash at you with a 
harsh "zv-a-a, w-a-a" almost striking you with 
their beaks. 

When the nesting is over and the young 
grown large enough to join in the mischief, Mr. 
Jay is a very different fellow, although he is 
probably just the same at heart. Now he is 
the alarmist of the woods, the sentinel on the 
watch to notify all the denizens of the neigh- 
borhood of the approach of danger, be it man, 
Hawk, Owl, or any one of the numerous mar- 
auders in fur. His harsh "jay, jay, jay" is far 
reaching, and many a still hunter on the trail 
of a fat buck has muttered imprecations at this 
noisy fellow who so plainly told the deer of im- 
pending danger that he fled the country in 
great haste, relying implicitly upon the infor- 
mation conveyed in the Jay's message. 

It is the question of food that leads the Blue 
Jay into trouble and gives him a bad name. 



WINTER COMRADES 151 

Not satisfied with a diet of mice, shrews, bugs 
of various kinds, berries, grain, nuts, etc., they 
eat the eggs and nestlings of other birds, even 
killing the parents if they offer too strenuous 
objection to these depredations. The truth is 
they are natural thieves and marauders. 

The vocabulary of the Blue Jay is an exten- 
sive one, and not only do they voice their own 
characteristic calls, but they closely imitate 
other birds, especially the Red-shouldered and 
Red-winged Hawks, Catbird, etc. Sometimes 
you will hear a tremendous row in the woods, 
with just enough intelligible Jay talk to give 
them away. Follow up the din, and you will 
find a pack of Jays mobbing an Owl, harassing 
the poor creature whose eyesight is defective in 
daytime, till he is quite beside himself. But 
when he alights and faces his tormentors they 
keep beyond the reach of his well armed feet 
and bill. Owl baiting is a favorite amusement 
with these feathered bullies. 

The plumage of the Blue Jay is grayish blue 
above, dusky white below. The wings and tail 
are bright blue with black bars, many feathers 
having white tips. The prominent crest is blue 
and there is a black stripe somewhat irregular 
in form extending from the back of the head 
down the sides of the neck and across the breast. 
The bill and legs are black. This bird is a foot 
long. The nest is made of sticks well woven 
together, and is placed some distance from the 
ground. The very pretty eggs are pale green, 
thickly mottled with brown. Their range extends 
from Florida to Newfoundland and they are 



152 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

generally common throughout as permanent 
residents. 

Canada Jay. A very interesting bird com- 
mon enough in the great woods of the Northern 
States and Canada, but practically unknown 
in the open country, is the Canada Jay. Among 
the lumbermen who know him intimately he is 
called by a variety of names, Moose Bird, Meat 
Hawk and Whiskey Jack being the most com- 
mon. When hunting big game in the deep wilder- 
ness, you may travel for days without seeing 
one of these birds; but no sooner have you 
killed a deer or moose and begun to dress the 
carcass than they appear to you as though they 
had been following you closely, waiting for a 
successful issue to your quest. One wonders at 
their sudden appearance on silent wing, and no 
less remarkable is their utter fearlessness. So 
close do they come and so insistent are they in 
their efforts to share with you the spoils of the 
hunt that they seem impertinent, and almost 
stupid. 

The explanation of their unusual boldness is 
probably found in the fact that being dwellers 
in the thick woods, away from the haunts of 
man, like the Grouse of the same locality, they 
have not as yet suffered greatly at his hands, 
and consequently have not developed fear of 
him. It is rather a sad commentary upon the 
attitude of man toward the feathered - creatures 
that, without doubt, did the Canada Jay live in 
the open country, he would become in a short 
time as shy and fearful as the great majority of 
our familiar birds. 



WINTER COMRADES 153 

The food of the Canada Jay is everything in 
the line of meat that may be found around the 
camps of hunters and lumbermen, even candles, 
salt pork and soap being quite within the range 
of their appetites. They eat bird's eggs, young 
birds, mice, and other rodents, in fact practi- 
cally everything in the animal kingdom they 
may lay bill to, besides acorns and beechnuts. 
Notwithstanding their omniverous appetites, 
it is still a deep mystery to me how these birds 
can secure enough food of any kind to sustain 
life in the terrible cold of the six-months-long 
winter. And when we consider that they nest 
in early March and their young are reared 
while yet the cruel grip of the Arctic cold 
is unbroken, the mystery becomes even 
greater. The answer to this problem will come 
on closer acquaintance with their nesting habits, 
to be gained only by some trained observer who 
has the hardihood to brave the region of the 
north woods at that forbidding season. Per- 
haps the memory of gaunt hunger unsatisfied, 
has led to one peculiar habit of this bird, the 
storing for future use of any kind of food it 
chances upon in excess of its immediate needs. 

The Canada Jay has rather a fluffy appear- 
ance, due to the thick coat of feathers it wears. 
It is slightly longer than the Blue Jay and the 
colors are much less conspicuous. The back is 
slate gray. The back of the head and nape of 
the neck are jet black, the throat, breast and 
forehead white. The gray feathers of the wings 
and tail are tipped with white. They have a 
variety of harsh calls, the most common of 



154 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

which is a disagreeable "ca-ca-ca." The roughly- 
built nest of bark, twigs and moss is usually 
placed in a thick-topped spruce or fir tree, some 
distance from the ground. The eggs are usually 
four in number, grayish, spotted and splashed 
with brown and slate colors. They are perma- 
nent residents throughout their range. 

Common Crow. There are few birds about 
which public opinion has been so much at vari- 
ance as the Common Crow. Formerly farmers 
almost universally condemned him as the great- 
est of mischief makers, an unmitigated nuisance, 
because of his persistent pulling of sprouting 
corn and other seeds in spring, and the destruc- 
tion he worked in the corn and potato fields and 
in the garden in fall. Among the farmers of my 
acquaintance there has been a great change of 
sentiment in recent years toward this sombre- 
hued bird for two reasons. It has been learned 
that by soaking the seed corn, peas, etc., in a 
solution of tar water, or any one of several 
chemicals, they are rendered so unpalatable that 
Mr. Crow never repeats the performance. Farm- 
ers have also learned through various sources, 
chiefly from information sent out by the Depart- 
ment of Agriculture at Washington, that the 
crow is a very valuable adjunct to their labors 
because of the great number of pests he destroys, 
mice, June bugs and their larvae, cutworms, 
grasshoppers, potato bugs, etc., thereby adding 
substantially to the bounty of the crops. 

To be sure, Crows still work more or less 
damage, particularly in the fall, and they 
destroy the eggs and young of various song 



WINTER COMRADES 155 

birds; but striking a balance between the good 
and evil wrought, they will be found to be real 
friends, whose presence, after all, is of material 
advantage to the farmer. 

Entirely apart from the utilitarian view is 
the sentimental side of the Crow's case. Per- 
sonally I have found him a very interesting and 
profitable object for observation and close 
study. They seem to know a great deal about 
man's ways and habits of thought, particularly 
where their own safety is concerned. If, gun in 
hand, you approach a flock of Crows busily 
feeding in the field, the sentinel (there is always 
one posted on some prominent lookout) will give 
the alarm and away will go the whole band long 
before you are within gun shot. Leave the gun 
behind and you can get so near you can almost 
hit them with stones or a stick. Riding or driv- 
ing along a country road, you can approach 
within a few rods, especially in the spring when 
they first put in an appearance. Usually noisy 
enough, when on mischief bent and in the 
neighborhood of their nests, they are silence 
itself. But let a band chance upon an Owl, be- 
wildered by the daylight, they proceed at once 
to mob him, raising a clamor that is heard a 
mile away. Crow ways are mysterious, perhaps 
past man's finding out, but I know of no bird 
that promises more in the way of variety and 
the unexpected in its traits, so that the student 
will find in this many-sided bird much that will 
repay close and protracted observation. 

Crows usually mate in March, and in April 
is built the nest of coarse sticks lined with moss 



156 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

and feathers, usually in the thick top of a tall 
evergreen tree in deep woods. The handsome, 
mottled, green and brown eggs are usually five 
or six in number. The dress of the Crow is jet 
black, even to the feet, legs and bill. He is a 
walking bird, with an expression of independ- 
ence in his gait that is quite amusing. In my 
boyhood they were the first comers of the bird 
army, a herald of the spring whose appearance 
we eagerly looked for. At that season their fine 
black coats were really attractive on the bare 
brown patches where the snow had melted. I 
have a real affection for the Crow and should 
sadly miss him, particularly in fall and spring. 



Chapter XI 
THRASHERS AND WRENS 
Catbird, Thrasher, Mockingbird, Wrens 

"Tragic, comic actor thou, 
For thy stage an alder bough; 
Now some borrowed joyous note 
Pouring from thy feigning throat. 
Now from wailing puss in sorrow, 
Her alarm cry thou dost borrow." 

— The Catbird, M. J. Savage. 

This family is composed of two subdivisions, 
Thrashers and Wrens, quite unlike in nearly all 
respects. The former is a numerous American 
group, while the Wrens are well represented in 
the Old World. Among the Thrashers are some 
of our best singers, as the Catbird and Mock- 
ingbird. Some of the Wrens, too, are very 
musical; but the family as a whole is noted for 
being nervous and excitable and giving utter- 
ance to their bad tempers in rather harsh, scold- 
ing notes. They are very interesting birds and 
both groups will well repay careful study. 

Catbird. This is the northern Mockingbird, 
and while less famed for his skill as a vocalist 
than his cousin of the south, yet at his best he 
is one of our most delightful performers. The 
Catbird is rather an anomaly, a sort of Dr. 
Jekyll and Mr. Hyde among birds. One can 
scarcely imagine a more disagreeable sound than 

157 



158 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

the catcall of this bird when he is disturbed, even 
in the slightest degree. You feel like hurling 
something at him that will send him beyond 
ear shot and you are quite disgusted with him. 
But if you curb your impatience and, calming 
your ruffled feelings, remain quiet for a time in 
the thicket where his nest is, he will forget your 
presence and you will be quite charmed with 
his performance. 

His lay is rather low, but melodious, and 
some of his notes are exceedingly fine. You may 
think there is a lack of spirit about it, as though 
the bird were not prompted to sing so much 
from the joyousness of his heart as from a desire 
to have some part in the chorus about him. 
His song is a strange mixture of the notes, calls 
and songs of other birds, rendered in his own, 
inimitable way. He is a very successful mocker, 
reproducing the notes of Thrush, Sparrow, 
Wren, or Warbler in so perfect a manner as to 
quite deceive one for the instant. But listen a 
moment longer and he gives himself away, for, 
after all, he has an individuality all his own 
which he cannot long conceal. And when it is 
over you wonder what it was all about, for 
there seems to be a lack of theme, of motif, as 
it were; yet there are parts which are so wild 
and sweet as to quite delight one. 

The Catbird is a citizen of the garden, the 
shrubbery of the parks, and the alder and hazel 
bushes that overgrow the river bank. When I 
wish to spend an hour in his society I quietly 
paddle along the shore close to the bushes, and 
I always find him. In June his nest is found 



THRASHERS AND WRENS 159 

this way; later the young will be seen skulking 
about the thick tangle, rather nervous at your 
approach. 

He is a sleek, well groomed bird, giving one 
the impression of bathing frequently and spend- 
ing much time in arranging his attractive dress. 
Attractive it is, although just a plain slate color, 
trimmed with black on the crown and tail. 
The under parts are slaty gray and under the 
tail there is a chestnut patch. The long tail, 
usually held at a smart angle, he makes good 
use of, nourishing it to express his varying 
emotions much as a speaker does his arms, or a 
lady her fan. They are tame birds, even in- 
clined to be friendly, and a little encourage- 
ment will bring them close about the house, 
even to the veranda, for tempting morsels. 

In my experience, Catbirds are associated 
with the river banks, where I find several nests 
each season. The nest, set in thick bushes, is 
made of rather coarse twigs, grass and leaves, 
well interwoven. The eggs, five or six in num- 
ber, are a beautiful bluish green in color. The 
parents display a care and solicitude for their 
young that is not exceeded in any of our birds. 
Perhaps the alarm felt at the approach of danger 
is in proportion to the intensity of their parental 
love; hence the emphasis of their squalling 
notes. They nest as far north as southern Can- 
ada and winter from Florida southward. They 
arrive toward the end of April. 

Brown Thrasher. The Brown Thrasher, or 
Brown Thrush, as he is more commonly but 
erroneously called, is quite the opposite to the 



160 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

Catbird in his song and habits, as well as in 
dress. The latter, as we have seen, sings from 
the midst of the tangled thicket about his nest, 
and in low tones. The Thrasher is impelled by 
no such feeling of modesty. From the topmost 
limb of the tallest tree, he pours out his wonder- 
ful lay, and he repeats it to make sure that you 
do not miss a single note. 

"That's the wise Thrush; he sings each song twice over, 
Lest you should think he never could recapture 
The first fine careless rapture!" 

sang the poet, and the thought is very sugges- 
tive of the manner of this bold performer. 
Some interpret the Thrasher's song as a bit of 
excellent advice to the farmer: 

"Shuck it, shuck it; sow it, sow it; 
Plough it, plough it; hoe it, hoe it!" 

These words suit well the measures of his notes. 

There is much about the song that will remind 
you of the Catbird, but the Thrasher, as we 
have seen, repeats his notes. There is a com- 
mon belief that the Thrasher, too, is a mocker, 
but this is a false impression, so far as I have 
observed. To me, his song seems quite his own, 
with a similarity in several particulars to the 
notes of other singers and yet wholly charac- 
teristic. When singing the bird seems fully 
absorbed in the effort, as though filled with 
emotion which demands expression through his 
vocal capabilities. 

Although so conspicuous when singing, the 
Brown Thrasher is rather a shy bird at other 



THRASHERS AND WRENS 161 

times. You will catch a glimpse of his fine brown 
dress as he dives from his song perch into the 
thicket, or as he darts in and out, close to the 
ground, in the alder and hazel tangle where he 
nests. He seems rather restless and easily- 
alarmed, indicating his dislike for your pres- 
ence by a loud "smack" which is the most 
emphatic alarm note I hear among song birds. 
If you quietly enter his bush-grown bower you 
may see him hopping and running about on the 
ground, flirting and flourishing his very promi- 
nent tail, like a Wren, as he searches for grubs, 
beetles and other insects, which, in the early 
part of the summer, constitute a large part of 
his food. Later he enjoys a change of food, pre- 
ferring cherries, berries and many wild fruits. 

They build, on or near the ground, a bulky 
nest of twigs, leaves and bark, lined with fine 
rootlets. The four or five eggs are white, thickly 
and evenly sprinkled with cinnamon-brown. 
The Brown Thrasher is about a foot long and is 
a very handsome bird. The upper parts of his 
dress are beautiful cinnamon-brown; the under 
parts are white, heavily spotted and streaked 
with dark brown, except at the throat and 
middle of the belly. The tail is long, wide, and 
drooping when singing. The eyes are yellow, 
the bill long and slightly curved. They range in 
summer over eastern North America as far 
north as Montreal and Manitoba, and winter 
from North Carolina, southward. 

Mockingbird. This wonderful singer holds the 
same place in the hearts of those people who 
have had the good fortune to live within its 



162 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

zone of song as the Hermit holds in the hearts 
of New Englanders. Writers of prose and poetry- 
have exhausted their vocabularies in the effort 
to do full justice to this master of song; but 
words fail to convey an adequate impression of 
his utterances. Many years a^o, one day when 
driving in Virginia from Williamsburg to the 
site of old Jamestown, in passing through a 
patch of second growth, I heard a song that 
instantly arrested my attention. Immediately 
I knew it for the song of the Mockingbird; for 
there is in its varied notes much of the quality 
that characterizes all the members of this family, 
although its range is all its own. The songs of 
many birds are drawn upon, but the style is 
much like the Thrasher, and the effect is most 
delightful. From all I have heard and read 
about the Mockingbird's song, I conclude that 
to realize the full effect of its wonderful expres- 
sion, one should hear it in the misty moonlight 
when the peach trees are in blossom. Under 
these conditions it must be entrancing. 

Often I have met these birds during the win- 
ter season, but then they are for the most part 
silent, and their call notes when heard are 
almost as harsh as those of the Catbird. When 
perched, in appearance they are much like the 
Loggerhead Shrike, but they are not nearly so 
sleek, and the tail is longer and more drooping. 
The upper parts are ashy gray, the wings and 
tail blackish. There is considerable white on the 
wing coverts, and the tail feathers and under 
parts are whitish. They are about ten and one- 
half inches in length. 



THRASHERS AND WRENS 163 

The nest of twigs and grass, lined with hair, 
rootlets, cotton, etc., is placed in a low bush of 
thicket or hedgerow, often in the shrubbery of 
the lawn. The eggs are pale blue or green, 
spotted and blotched with brown. So tame are 
these birds that they are about the street, parks, 
and lawns of Southern cities, and on the plan- 
tation they are as friendly and trustful as the 
Robins in the North. They are usually perma- 
nent residents except in the extreme northern 
portion of their wide range, which extends from 
Mexico to Illinois and northern New Jersey, 
even to Maine as accidental visitors. They 
winter from Virginia southward. 

Carolina Wren. This, the largest of our 
Wrens, is usually a Southern dweller, as the 
name implies, that sometimes ventures north- 
ward even to Maine. They are found nesting 
in southern New England, but only rarely. In 
the Southern States they are permanent resi- 
dents, and very welcome little neighbors they 
make, for they are one of the very few families 
that sing all winter, and their song is quite 
meritorious. I have found them in the winter 
about the farm buildings, even under the ve- 
randa and about the woodpile, where they hail 
the sunrise with their tuneful "zvhee-udel, zvhee- 
udel, zvhee-udel.^ This little minstrel is an all- 
day singer, but he is by no means confined to a 
single lay, for his repertoire includes a variety 
of tunes, whistles and calls that have caused 
him to be called the Mocking Wren, although 
he is probably not a true mocker. 
,. Like all his family, he is a restless sprite, 



164 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

dodging in and out of holes, cracks and crevices 
of rocks and logs in the woods, where he usually 
dwells. He comes about the homes of man more 
commonly in winter. 

The Carolina Wren is rather an attractive 
bird in dress, with upper parts rufous, the wing 
and tail feathers finely barred with black. 
There is a whitish line over the eye and whitish 
spots on the wings. The under parts are creamy 
buff, lighter on the throat. This Wren is five 
and one-half inches lon^. 

The nest is placed in an old log, stump, wood- 
pile or brush heap. It is made of grass, leaves 
and twigs, and lined with rootlets, fine grass, 
etc. The eggs, four to six in number, are creamy 
white with fine brown spots. The Carolina Wren 
nests from the Gulf States to northern Illinois 
and southern Connecticut. 

House Wren. This little bird is a pronounced 
lover of man, for in the East, at least, it is 
almost always found nesting in his immedi- 
ate vicinity. I have never known of this bird 
as a woods dweller, although its cousin, the 
Winter Wren, as we shall see, is always an in- 
habitant of the forest. The House Wren comes 
close about you, preferring to occupy a cozy 
little bird-house you have erected for it. But 
in the absence of so convenient a place, he will 
be'content with a tin can, crevice in a building, 
hole in a fence rail or log, a beam under the 
veranda, an old shoe, or the pocket of a gar- 
ment. In fact any place will do that meets the 
bird's notion of safety. Once well located, they 
will return year after year, inclining one to the 



THRASHERS AND WRENS . 165 

belief that they remain permanently mated. 

This Wren sings at its work. Whether house 
building, house cleaning, or tending the nest- 
lings, its jolly song may be heard as though 
labor were a constant delight. But sweet tem- 
pered as he usually is, he is easily disturbed and 
becomes a little shrew, scolding angrily. This 
happens when Jay, Cowbird, or other neighbor 
in feathers, or squirrel, becomes too neighborly. 

The song of the House Wren is very sweet 
and tender, sung with a zest which completely 
dominates the tiny creature. It is heard through- 
out the day, interrupted frequently by house- 
hold cares and love making, for they are very 
affectionate midgets. Much time is also spent 
in policing the immediate vicinity of their 
home, for they are jealous guardians of what 
seems to them to be their exclusive domains. 

The bulky nest is made of twigs and grass. 
The eggs are six to eight in number, creamy 
white, spotted with brown. Their plumage is 
dark brown above, minutely barred with 
blackish. The under parts are gray with brown- 
ish washings. The tail is erect, the bill rather 
long and sharp. They range locally in summer 
as far north as Manitoba and Maine, wintering 
from South Carolina southward. It seems the 
increase of English Sparrows has driven the 
House W 7 ren from many of its former haunts. 

Winter Wren. This tiny woods sprite I have 
not had the good fortune to see during the 
spring migration. In the great woods of northern 
Maine we find them common enough when we 
go there on our annual fishing trip in midsum- 



166 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

mer. It is not quite easy for one living in New 
England to see why they are called Winter 
Wrens, as that is the season when they are not 
in evidence. But in the Middle States they 
spend the season of cold, so perhaps from that 
viewpoint they are correctly named. 

This Wren has a pretty suit of brown, finely 
barred with black on the wings and tail, with 
concealed light spots. The under parts are light 
washed with brownish, the sides and breast 
somewhat barred with black. The tail is erect, 
giving the bird the appearance of being much 
shorter than he really is, and his entire length 
from tip of bill to end of tail feathers is but a 
trifle more than four inches. 

The Winter Wren is a very pert and active 
bird, darting like a huge bee in and out the 
brush heaps, stopping to look at you, with a 
queer little bobbing motion, as though his legs 
were coiled steel wire. If you chance upon his 
large family when they are first out of the nest, 
your amusement will be great. Last year we 
saw them rowed along a mossy log, tended by 
the parents, who were evidently giving them 
their first lesson in woodcraft. They watched 
us for some time, bobbing all the while on their 
tiny legs, then slipped away into the moss and 
leaves, evidently thinking us suspicious char- 
acters to be avoided. 

The nest is built of small twigs and moss, 
lined with feathers, usually placed in an old 
stump, in the moss at the foot of a tree, or per- 
haps in a brush heap. The four to ten eggs, 
scarcely larger than peas, are creamy white 
speckled witli reddish brown. 




LOXG-IJILLKI) MARSH WREN 



THRASHERS AND WRENS 167 

Interesting as the Winter Wren is in plumage 
and habits, it is as a singer that he is known to 
fame, for his song is one of the great delights 
that comes to one in the wilderness. It is wild, 
rich, tinkling, a mountain rill. Thoreau says of 
one he heard in the Franconia Notch: "It was 
surprising for its steady and uninterrupted 
flow, for when one stopped, another took up 
the strain. It reminded me of a fine, corkscrew 
stream, issuing with incessant lisping tinkle 
from a cork, flowing rapidly; and I said he had 
pulled out the sp ; le and left it running. That 
was the rhythm, but with a sharper tinkle, of 
course." I sometimes hear him called the 
"fiddlin' bird," and think the name very appro- 
priate. They nest from the Northern States 
northward, and along the Alleghenies, wintering 
from New England to Florida. 

Long-billed Marsh Wren. In swamps that 
are overgrown with reeds, and in the cat-tails 
that border marsh, lake and stream, you will 
find in the summertime a little Wren, whose 
acquaintance you will not make unless you 
visit his haunts, for he seldom ventures forth 
except during migration. This is the Long- 
billed Marsh Wren, as much a part of the 
marsh he inhabits as the reeds and rushes them- 
selves. When you undertake to pay him a 
friendly visit, the chances are that you will be 
greeted by harsh "cacks" that indicate ill humor 
at being disturbed. But if you compose your- 
self in patience for a time, the ill temper dis- 
appears, and you may hear his quaint song, a 
bubbling, tremulous little melody, that reminds 



168 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

you of the lay of his cousin, the House Wren. 
It is rather wild and a trifle harsh, but, withal, 
pleasing. 

The nesting habits of this nervous midget 
are exceedingly interesting. They build a globe- 
shaped structure of grass and rushes, attached 
to reeds or bushes, with the entrance at the side 
like the opening of a pocket. But this restless 
creature does not stop with building a single 
nest, although it can occupy but one. It seems 
that its uncurbed energies compel constant 
activity, and the male goes on building other 
nests, sometimes a half dozen or more, while 
his mate is hatching the brood. The reason for 
this has occasioned much speculation among 
ornithologists and scientists, the generally ac- 
cepted theory being that the extra nests are 
built as a means of protection to the sitting 
mate, as the number lessens the chances that 
an enemy will find the real home. This is a very 
interesting explanation, but I can but doubt the 
ability of these birds to reason so far. 

This is a plainly dressed Wren. The crown 
is olive-brown, with a white line over the eye. 
The black back is streaked with white, and the 
dark wings and tail are barred with brown. 
The under parts are white, washed with brown 
on the sides. The bill is long and slightly curved. 
They range in summer from the Gulf to central 
New England, wintering from Florida south- 
ward. They are slightly more than five inches 
long. 

Short-billed Marsh Wren. This Wren also 
inhabits marshes and meadows overgrown with 



THRASHERS AND WRENS 169 

coarse grass. They are usually found with diffi- 
culty, as they have a way of skulking in the 
grass and sedges, rarely appearing, but indicat- 
ing their presence by their sharp calls, which 
Mr. Thompson says sound like the noise made 
by strikine two pebbles together. The song is 
described by Nuttall as a "lively and quaint 
song, Hsh, tship, a-day, day, day, day,' delivered 
in haste and earnestly, at short intervals, either 
when he is mounted on a tuft of sedge or while 
perching on some low bush near the skirt of 
the marsh." 

This, too, is a very small Wren, scarcely more 
than four inches long. The upper parts are 
streaked black, brown and buff, the wings and 
tail beine somewhat barred. The under parts 
are white, tinged with light brown on the breast 
and sides. They breed as far north as Massa- 
chusetts, and winter from the Gulf States south- 
ward. This bird is also said to build extra nests 
as does the Long-billed, and its nesting habits 
are very similar. 



Chapter XII 
WOOD WARBLERS 

"While May bedecks the naked tree* 
With tassels and embroideries, 
And many blue-eyed violets beam 
Along the edges of the stream, 
I hear a voice that seems to say, 
Now near at hand, now far away, 
* Witchery-witchery- witchery!' " 
'* The Maryland Yellow Throat " — Henry van Dyke. 

The Wood Warblers belong to an exclusively 
American family, numbering in all, according 
to Mr. Chapman, about one hundred and fifty- 
five species, some seventy of which visit the 
United States. All these, however, are not 
found in any one locality during the nesting 
season, but they are scattered over the whole 
country, reaching far north into Canada, even 
to Alaska. After the young are reared they 
withdraw to the Southern States or beyond our 
southern border, except for a few varieties, 
of which scattering members even brave the 
rigors of the northern winter. These few indi- 
viduals subsist during the winter months upon 
berries, but the great army of Warblers are 
almost exclusively insect feeders, and so pass 
well below the frost region, where they may be 
sure of a constant food supply. 

Many Warblers are late arrivals in spring, 

170 



WOOD WARBLERS 171 

the great army appearing only after the weather 
is well settled and the season of warm days is 
here. They leave as soon as the young are 
grown, some even in early August. 

For some time I have been watching three 
families in the near-by woods beyond the Cove, 
the Black-throated Blue, the Black-throated 
Green, and the Black and White Warbler. 
Yesterday, the fifth of August, I visited their 
nesting haunts to find them absent. Not a 
Warbler note did I hear, or feather did I see, 
where a few days ago the thicket seemed alive 
with them. No doubt they have already begun 
their migration which will for a time be made 
by very easy stages, as there will be little occa- 
sion for haste to escape the cold winter. 

As a family Warblers are rather delicate 
creatures, ill fitted to withstand the vicissitudes 
of our changing climate; and the wonder is how 
so many make the long migration without even 
greater mortality among their numbers. There 
are many varieties that travel five thousand 
miles between their summer and winter homes; 
and it is said the Black Poll, nesting in Alaska, 
travels seven thousand five hundred miles to 
its winter haunts in South America. No doubt 
vast numbers meet untimely deaths on their 
long journeys, but a goodly number survive, 
bringing much of interest to our summer woods. 

Warblers are usually woods-dwellers, where 
we must seek them if we would make their 
acquaintance. They are restless as Wrens, and 
being flycatchers, are constantly darting about 
picking up the tiny tidbits of the air. They are 



172 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

very difficult little creatures to study through a 
glass, and much patience must be exercised if 
one is to know them. But the reward is well 
worth the effort, for they are among our most 
attractive birds in plumage and nesting habits, 
and while as a family they are not renowned 
for vocal ability, yet many have very pleasant 
notes, a few, songs of much merit. They present 
a variety of colors that are brilliant and often 
fantastic in arrangement. 

Warblers differ much in feeding habits. Be- 
sides catching insects, some patiently search 
the cracks and crevices of tree trunks and care- 
fully inspect both sides of the leaves in a most 
painstaking and persistent manner. Some are 
frequently seen on the ground searching for 
grubs among the leaves, and a few varieties, at 
certain seasons, feed upon berries and fruit. 

The Warbler family is one of the most numer- 
ous in summer, and it is perhaps safe to say one- 
half the birds we find in the woods are mem- 
bers thereof. 

The fact of their keeping pretty close to the 
woods, together with their small size and incon- 
spicuous notes, accounts for their being so little 
known. They are at once the joy and the despair 
of the bird student, and to know even a few 
varieties is well worth while. Yet if one begins 
in early spring, when the hardier varieties 
arrive, and works patiently for a season as 
opportunity offers, a goodly number of inter- 
esting acquaintances may be made. During the 
migration, before the trees are in full foliage, is 
an excellent time to study Warblers. They 



WOOD WARBLERS 173 

are then in evidence in city parks and about the 
lawn, wherever shelter and food are to be had. 
About thirty-five varieties may be found in the 
north during the spring and summer; in some 
localities a few more. Of these we shall consider 
about twenty of the more common ones. 

Myrtle Warbler. One of the first Warblers 
to put in an appearance in April is the Myrtle, 
one of the most common of the family, as well 
as one of the hardiest. He is rather gayly dressed 
and may be easily distinguished by the four dis- 
tinct patches of yellow, on either side of the 
breast, on the rump, and crown. Otherwise the 
upper parts of the male are bluish gray, streaked 
with black. The under parts are light, and, 
except the throat, heavily streaked with black. 
There are two distinct wing bars of white, and 
the outer tail feathers are dashed with white. 
The dress of the female is similar, with a faint 
wash of brown above and less black on the 
under parts. In the fall, both show much less 
yellow, sometimes only the patch on the rump 
being visible. 

This is a bold Warbler, often seen in the open 
country in company with others more timid, 
who seem to seek his protection. I find them in 
the dense woods in nesting time, but as soon as 
the young can travel they move about the open 
country in family parties, often visiting lawn 
and garden. They come to our premises fre- 
quently where they flit in and out among the 
fruit and shade trees, deftly snapping up pass- 
ing insects and clinging to the tree trunks like 
creepers, sometimes resting on the ground. 



174 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

In spring and summer the food of Myrtle 
Warblers is insects and the eggs and larvae of 
insects; but with the advancing season, they 
change to a diet of berries of the Virginia creeper, 
dogwood, seeds of the alder, and bay or myrtle- 
berries. From this habit arises the bird's name. 
Their love for this vegetable diet makes it pos- 
sible for some of the more vigorous individuals 
to winter farther north than any other Warbler. 
They are said to sometimes remain all win- 
ter in Massachusetts where bayberries abound. 
In the vicinity of New York I have found them 
in a tangle of catbrier and poison ivy in Decem- 
ber. They breed from northern New England 
northward, and, as a rule, winter from the Mid- 
dle States southward to Mexico and Panama. 

Myrtle Warblers usually build in evergreen 
trees, a nest of twigs and grass, with a lining of 
hair, feathers or rootlets. The eggs are four or 
five in number, grayiwsh white, thickly speckled 
with brown. This is one of the largest Warblers, 
nearly six inches in length. 

Yellow Palm Warbler. A dainty little Warbler 
that may be expected in the vicinity of New 
York by mid -April, is the Yellow Palm. 
They, too, winter in the near South, usually 
in the Gulf States, so their spring journey 
is much shorter than with those wintering in 
the far tropics. During migration this is a bird 
of the open country, parks, fields and road- 
side, with little liking for dense foliage of either 
lawn or forest. They are friendly, trustful little 
creatures that often come close about the build- 
ings in search of food, for they arrive at a time 



WOOD WARBLERS 175 

when the food question is rather a difficult one 
to solve, especially since they are not seed 
eaters at this season of the year. 

Their nesting grounds are to the north, and 
they are seen in the Northern and Middle 
States only during migration, except in northern 
Maine. But while journeying northward they 
are numerous, and often are in the company of 
Myrtles. They are restless little fellows, now 
darting into the air to snap up a fly, now walk- 
ing sedately about the fields in search of tiny 
insects and grubs hidden in the grass, but always 
with a lifting motion to the tail which becomes 
very monotonous to the observer, if not tire- 
some to the bird itself. Their note of alarm 
is a sharp "chip, chip," their usual call note a 
fainter, rather lisping "tchip." The song heard 
on the nesting ground is a daintily warbled 
li tsee, tsee, tsee, tsee, tsee, tsee, tsee" a simple but 
characteristic strain. 

The name suggests the chief color of the bird, 
for the under parts are bright yellow with fine 
lines of brown on the sides of the throat. A 
streak over the eye and the eye ring are yellow. 
The back is brownish olive-green, brighter on 
the rump. The wings and tail are clove brown. 
The outer tail feathers are dashed with white, 
plainly seen as the bird moves about. The 
Yellow Palm is a small bird, less than five and 
one-half inches long. Their nesting habits have 
been observed by few persons in Maine. Mr. 
Knight found them nesting on the ground at 
the foot of a tree in a moss-covered bog. The 
nests were built of fine grass and sedges, lined 



176 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

with feathers or hair. The five eggs were a 
roseate white, spotted and blotched with brown. 

Black and White Warbler. This Warbler 
could scarcely have borne another name, for 
black and white are his colors, with no trace of 
another tint. His dress is really very neat, the 
coal black being streaked and dashed with pure 
white. The female is washed with brownish on 
the sides and there is less black on the under 
parts; otherwise the colors of her plumage are 
the same. If we add the word creeping to the 
name of this bird, its identity is complete, for 
it is almost as much a creeper as the Nut- 
hatch or Brown Creeper. Their arrival is simul- 
taneous with the Yellow Palm, and they are 
found wherever there are trees. About the 
shade trees and parks of the city, by the road- 
side, on the lawn, and in the forest and orchard, 
they busily search for their daily supply of bugs, 
gnats, spiders, grubs and eggs of various insects. 
They, too, are restless, but are more easily 
observed than other Warblers, which feed ex- 
clusively on insects caught on the wing, for 
they move more sedately and doggedly. As 
they work I often hear a fine, wiry call note, 
"dze, dze, dze," and at times the bird stops to 
sing a shrill "wee-see, wee-see, wee-see, wee-see," 
not particularly musical. 

These Warblers are common summer resi- 
dents in the New England States, usually nest- 
ing in second-growth, deciduous woods. The 
nest of bark and grass is lined with hair and 
tiny rootlets, and always placed on the ground 
by the side of a stump or log, under a bush, or 



WOOD WARBLERS 177 

on a hummock. The eggs are pure white, prettily 
spotted with brown. The range of the Black and 
White Warbler in summer is local over eastern 
North America from Pennsylvania northward 
to the latitude of Hudson Bay. They winter 
from northern Florida southward. They are 
slightly more than six inches in length. 

Pine Warbler. Often in late April we find 
associated in migration with the Yellow Palms 
and Myrtles the Pine Warbler, so named be- 
cause of its liking for pine trees. You will be 
attracted by rather faint notes, which sound 
like the utterances of the Chipping Sparrow and 
yet are sufficiently characteristic so that you 
will not confuse the two birds. Some observers 
also liken its song to that of the Field Sparrow, 
but I have not observed the likeness. The notes 
are clear and sweet, a simple strain. Many of 
these birds winter in the United States, even as 
far north as North Carolina, a fact which ac- 
counts for their early appearance in spring. 

In the breeding season the Pine Warbler is 
closely associated with evergreen forests, espe- 
cially the pine; therefore, its range is much 
limited. They build in these trees, usually on a 
horizontal line high above the ground, a com- 
pact nest of bark, weeds, leaves, etc., lined with 
feathers and hair. The four or five eggs are 
white with cinnamon spots. 

As they usually live amid the dense foliage of 
the pine they are rather difficult birds to ob- 
serve. They are restive and busy, now clinging 
to a thick cluster of needles, now moving like a 
creeper along bough or trunk in the never end- 



178 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

ing search for the tiny insects which largely 
comprise their food. It is sometimes called the 
Pine Creeping Warbler, but it is not a true 
creeper. They are among our hardiest Warblers 
and are often locally abundant. 

The dress of the Pine Warbler is rather plain. 
The upper parts of the male are bright olive- 
green, with a tinge of gray. There are two white 
wing bars and two patches of white on the 
outer tail feathers near the tips. The under parts 
are bright yellow washed with ashy, shading into 
white on the belly. The female is brownish on 
the back and dingy white below. They are 
about five and one-half inches long. In summer 
they are found from Florida to Canada and they 
winter from North Carolina southward. 

American Redstart. In late spring and 
summer a common Warbler in the bushes and 
second-growth trees along roadsides and streams, 
and in the edge of the woods, is the American 
Redstart. He is very conspicuous for his strik- 
ing colors, orange and black, and for his ringing 
song. The orange is darker than that of the 
Baltimore Oriole, and there is a dash of white 
distinctly seen as he darts about. They have a 
peculiar habit of drooping the wings when 
perched, as though weary, and when in flight 
the tail is wide spread. 

The Redstart is a very beautiful Warbler, 
lively and cheerful in habit, and attractive in 
song. Its strain is variously indicated by words, 
"che, che, che, che-pa" being a common form. 
But it seems to me that Mr. Chapman's ren- 
dering, "ching, ching, chee; serwee, serwee, ser- 




Courtesy of the National Association oi Audubon Societies 
AMERICAN REDSTART 



WOOD WARBLERS 179 

wee, " is nearer the song I hear from this very 
common Warbler. The female sometimes sings 
a part of a song but the male is really the vo- 
calist of the family. They have a plaintive call 
note, "che-ep," and a sharper "chick." 

The upper parts of the male Redstart are 
glossy black, the basal halves of the wing and 
tail feathers a deep orange. The throat and 
breast are black, the latter bordered with 
orange. The belly is white, the sides somewhat 
washed with orange. The female is much less 
conspicuous in coloring, having the upper parts 
greenish gray, and in place of the orange a dull 
yellow. 

These beautiful birds are common in our 
summer woods and their range is broad, extend- 
ing over the larger part of North America. 
They nest from North Carolina to Labrador, 
wintering in the West Indies, Mexico and Cen- 
tral America. They are slightly less than six 
inches in length. The nest of the Redstart is 
a well made cup of fine strips of bark, plant 
fibre and down, lined with fine roots and ten- 
drils. It is usually placed in the fork of a limb 
from five to twenty-five feet above the ground. 
The eggs, grayish white spotted with brown, 
are four or five in number. 

Yellow Warbler. A very common bird in 
summer about the thick shrubbery of the parks, 
the bushes that overgrow the river banks, and 
even about the hedges and lawn is the Yellow 
Warbler. He is a pretty little fellow in a bright 
suit of yellow, with a happy song heard at all 
hours of the long day. Not only does he cheer 



180 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

the heart of his dainty little mate at her work 
with his tuneful melody, but he actually assists 
at the labor of nest building and care of the 
brood. Rarely do we find more delightful and 
altogether commendable traits than in the 
family of this abundant Warbler. 

He is in full song when he arrives in early May, 
and his "weeche, weeche, weeche-we-we" is a 
welcome addition to the swelling chorus. They 
are seen frequently about our lawn during sum- 
mer, the Yellow Warbler being one of the birds 
that so kindly and so thoroughly, day after day, 
glean the injurious insects from our shade trees. 
I always feel very grateful for their services, and 
derive much pleasure from their bright coats 
and sprightly songs. 

Every year they nest in the bushes by the 
river, and if you paddle quietly along close to 
the bank, locating their home is a very easy 
matter; but one might walk along the bank 
many times without finding it. The nest, usu- 
ally hung from a forked branch a few feet above 
the ground, is a well-built little cup made of 
bits of bark and fine grass, with a soft lining 
of plant down. The eggs are of greenish white 
color heavily marked with brown and lilac about 
the larger end. This Warbler is often called 
the Wild Canary from his close resemblance to 
that household pet, but he may be easily iden- 
tified by his slender bill and the dainty brown 
stripes like faint pencilings on his breast. The 
upper parts are bright greenish yellow, somewhat 
brighter on the crown. The wings and tail are 
blackish, the feathers of both somewhat fringed 



WOOD WARBLERS 181 

with yellow. Underneath is brilliant lemon- 
yellow streaked with brown. This is a real yel- 
low bird, true to name as the Indigo Bird. The 
female is somewhat paler and the breast-stripes 
are very faint. They are slightly more than five 
inches long. They range over the greater part 
of North America, nest as far north as the 
Arctic region, wintering in Central and South 
America. 

Black-throated Blue Warbler. A Warbler I 
frequently find in second-growth woods, where 
the underbrush is thick, is the Black-throated 
Blue. His name describes him sufficiently to 
insure his identification, and if there be added 
a suggestion of the white patch on the wings, 
the description will be complete. This is a very 
handsome bird, strikingly different in dress 
from all other Warblers. 

During the migration I frequently find him 
about the city parks, but, so far as I have ob- 
served, they nest in forest seclusion. As you 
venture into their haunts in June, you will hear 
a sharp "cheep, cheep," and later, if you are 
patient, "szveeze, szveeze, szveeze," uttered by the 
male when perched low. 

The nest is usually placed in an evergreen 
tree not far from the ground. It is made of fine 
bark and grass, lined with vegetable fibre. The 
eggs are three to five in number, grayish white 
with large and small spots of brown. 

With the male the upper parts are slaty blue, 
the edges of the wings and tail deep blue. There 
is, as we have seen, a distinct white patch on 
each wing and also on the outer tail feathers. 



182 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

The throat, sides of the head, and breast are 
black, the belly white, the sides black and 
white. The dress of the female is quite different, 
rendering her rather difficult of identification. 
The upper parts are olive-green with a bluish 
tinge on the tail. The white wing patches are 
indistinct, and the sides of the head are gray. 
The under parts are dingy yellow. They are 
about five inches in length. They nest from 
Minnesota and Massachusetts northward to 
Labrador, wintering in the tropics. 

Black-throated Green. This Warbler is 
also comparatively easy of identification, for 
his notes are quite characteristic and his plumage 
is both brilliant and unique. The male has 
the upper parts light olive-green, with a line 
over the eye and the cheeks bright yellow; and 
there are two white wing bars. The throat and 
breast are black, the belly white, the sides 
streaked with black. The best field marks are 
the yellow cheeks, white spots on the tail and 
the black throat. The dress of the female is 
similar, but the black of the throat and breast 
is mixed with yellowish. 

During migration they are found everywhere, 
but in the nesting season they frequent the 
evergreen woods. Then the male pauses in his 
flycatching and drones his high pitched song, 
which begins with several level notes and rises 
suddenly at the end. The song is brief, but 
possesses much merit; in fact, it ranks very 
high among the Warbler songs. These birds 
nest from Illinois and southern New England, 
northward to Hudson Bay, and winter in the 




BLACK-THROATED GREEN WARBLER 



WOOD WARBLERS 183 

tropics. They appear about New York at the 
end of April or in early May. 

Nashville Warbler. About second-growth 
patches of woods and in the thickets that fringe 
ponds, lakes and streams, in New York State 
and New England, this sprightly little Warbler 
is one of the common birds of summer. They 
receive their name from the fact that Wilson, 
the discoverer of the species, found them near 
the city of Nashville, in Tennessee. They are 
not so often dwellers of the deep woods as many 
of their cousins, and so their acquaintance is 
more easily made. Besides, they live much in 
the lower branches of trees and in bushes, and 
nest on the ground, traits which render them 
quite conspicuous on our excursions afield in 
early spring and summer. 

The dress of the Nashville Warbler is more 
refined than brilliant, and is of such a character 
as to render him rather easy to identify. The 
top and sides of the head of the male are blue- 
gray. Partially concealed on the crown is a 
patch of chestnut, an inconspicuous mark. 
Elsewhere the upper parts are olive-green, and 
there are no wing bars. The under parts are 
bright yellow, brighter on the throat and shad- 
ing to white on the belly. The female has prac- 
tically the same dress but somewhat paler. 
With this variety there seems to be little love 
making, and it appears that the mate has small 
part in setting up housekeeping, except as he 
stimulates and cheers the female at her work. 
Perchance on a near-by bush he sings his bold 
and pleasing song, which has been indicated by 



184 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

the words, "pea-cie, pea-cie-hit-i-hit-i-hit." 
Langille finds in the first part of the song a 
similarity to that of the Black and White 
Warbler, while the latter part is likened to the 
notes of the Chipping Sparrow. There is also a 
flight song, with "drippings" before and after, 
which is said to be more hurried. 

The nest of moss, lichens and dead leaves, 
lined with fine rootlets, is placed on the ground 
in small growth, often among gray birches. 
This habit has led to its being called the Birch 
Warbler. The eggs are white with fine brown 
spots. They range in summer from southern 
New England to Labrador, wintering in Central 
America and Mexico. These birds are slightly 
less than five inches in length. 

Parula Warbler. If you visit thickly 
wooded sections either in city parks or in the 
country, about the middle of May, you will be 
pretty sure to find a large number of migrating 
warblers. Prominent among them will be the 
charming little Parula, one of the most attrac- 
tively dressed of the whole family. They are 
very tame during migration and if you sit quiet 
will come close about you. In mid-May this 
year, we found them in Forest Park, New York 
City, so plentiful that we could hardly believe 
our eyes, and so tame it seemed they would 
light on our hats. They were feeding busily on 
gnats, flies and mosquitoes. On another visit 
a few days later we found they had gone on 
their way to the nesting grounds. 

The dress of the Parula is very pretty. The 
upper parts are grayish blue with a yellow patch 



WOOD WARBLERS 185 

on the center of the back. There are two white 
wing bars and the outer tail feathers have a 
white patch near the end. The throat and breast 
are yellow with a band across the chest, vary- 
ing in color from chestnut to brownish black. 
The belly is white and the sides somewhat 
washed with brown. The female has similar 
coloring, but the band across the chest is duller, 
sometimes altogether lacking, and the upper 
parts are inclined toward greenish. 

The song of this really beautiful creature is 
neither loud nor especially musical, an insect- 
like " ze-ze-ti-ti." The alarm note is a sharp 
"chip" or "chick." 

As a nest builder, the Parula is one of the 
most interesting of birds. In the trees which 
border ponds and lakes, and along the sea- 
shore, in fact, wherever in their nesting range 
the long, gray usnea moss is abundant, their 
nests are located. The nest is simply a hollow 
in the center of the bunch of moss and no other 
material enters into its structure. In this pic- 
turesque and highly artistic nest are laid the 
tiny white eggs, thickly spotted with brown. 
The Parula ranges in summer from the moun- 
tains of New York and Virginia, northward to 
New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, wintering in 
the tropics. This bird is slightly more than four 
and one-half inches long. 

Chestnut-sided Warbler. Another brilliantly 
dressed Warbler is the Chestnut-sided, whose 
name reveals the most striking feature of its 
handsome dress. The top of the head is bright 
yellow, bordered on the sides with black, and a 



186 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PAR& 

black band from between the eye and the bill ex- 
tends down the sides of the neck. There are 
white patches on the cheeks and two white wing 
bars. The back is streaked with dark and light 
olive-green. The tail is black with white patches 
near the tips of the feathers. The under parts 
are white, the sides chestnut. The dress of the 
female is similar, but the colors are somewhat 
fainter. 

This is a common Warbler in New England 
in summer, but leaves early. They are good fly- 
catchers and also gleaners of bugs and grubs 
among the leaves of the trees about their homes. 
Sometimes they come to our lawn on a food 
quest, although their nests are a half mile away. 
In blackberry bushes I often find a nest made of 
tendrils, strips of bark and rootlets lined with 
pine needles. The eggs are white with brown 
spots mostly about the larger end. They range 
in summer from Illinois and central New Jersey 
north to Newfoundland and southward in the 
mountains. They winter in the tropics. 

The song of the Chestnut-sided Warbler is 
often compared to that of the Yellow Warbler, 
and it will require a little experience to dis- 
criminate between them. It has been described 
as " te-te-te-te-we-cher." Another version is "tsee, 
tsee, happy to meet you." The notes are dis- 
tinct and rather explosive at the end. The song 
season is short, usually ending by the middle of 
July. 

Wilson's Warbler. This Warbler is little 
known in the Eastern States except as a traveler 
in spring and fall. Aside from the few that nest 




Courtesy of the National Association of Audubon Societies 
CHESTNUT-SIDED WARBLER 



WOOD WARBLERS 187 

in northern Maine, they are summer residents 
in Canada northward to Labrador. During 
migration you will find them in the bush ricks 
along the brooks and about ponds, where they 
easily catch their supply of gnats and flies, a 
work at which they are very expert. There you 
will hear their thin, high pitched "zee, zee, zee" 
not unlike the first notes of the Redstart, and 
less wiry than the similar notes of the Golden- 
crowned Kinglet. It is a modest little song, 
unpretentious, but sweet and happy when 
heard in the season of pussy-willows and alder 
catkins. 

This bird is slightly smaller than the Yellow 
Warbler. Its most prominent feature in dress 
is the fine black cap above the yellow forehead. 
Otherwise the upper parts are a handsome 
shade of olive-green; the under parts are bright 
yellow. The female has the same colors, but 
sometimes she lacks the black cap. The nest, 
on the ground and well hidden by low bushes, 
is made of leaves and grass. They arrive in the 
vicinity of New York in early May. 

Maryland Yellow-throat. There is not a 
more fantastic feature of dress found in the 
whole Warbler family than the black mask worn 
by the Maryland Yellow-throat. It is so pecul- 
iar that no other field mark is necessary to 
insure his identity. Otherwise his colors are 
ordinary enough, olive-green above and bright 
yellow below, brightest on the throat. The belly 
is white with brownish washings on the sides. 
The female is a much more difficult bird to 
identify, as she is lacking the black mask and 



188 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

there are more of the brown washings in her 
plumage. You will often be puzzled by this 
little lady in yellow and brown, but when her 
"chack, chack" of alarm brings to her side him 
of the black mask your doubts will be wholly 
dispelled. 

I find these Warblers in summer more com- 
monly in the alder swamps and ricks of bushes 
that border brook and cove. In a bush near the 
ground is built a bulky nest of coarse grass and 
bark, lined with fine grass and tendrils. The four 
tiny white eggs are finely spotted with brown. 
It is said their song varies much in different 
localities, but the one I hear is a loud and 
melodious " wichery-wichery-wichery" sung over 
and over, many times a day, and at all hours, 
with a swing that is very pleasant to the 
ear. They are very common birds in their sum-- 
mer range, which extends from Georgia to 
Labrador. They winter from the Gulf south- 
ward. 

Yellow-breasted Chat. This is the largest 
member of the Warbler family and, if the reports 
of him are true, by far the most eccentric; and 
enough of his peculiar traits are well established 
to warrant that characterization. I have not 
seen him in New England, but in northern New 
Jersey I have found him in bush-grown tracts 
and among sapling growths on the Orange 
Mountains. 

Usually this is a very shy bird, but he is so 
conspicuous in coloring and size as to make his 
identification an easy matter. The upper parts 
are olive-green. The throat and breast are 



WOOD WARBLERS 189 

bright yellow, shading to white on the belly. 
There is a white line over the eye to the bill, a 
white eye ring and white stripes on the neck. 
The bill is large and slightly curved. He is 
nearly seven and one-half inches long. 

The Chat has no utterance worthy to be 
called a song, but it is a noisy creature never- 
theless. The wonder is that one bird can produce 
such a potpourri of cacks, chucks and calls as 
will sometimes greet your ears when in the 
haunts of this vocal anomaly. It is said that by 
sharply striking together two pebbles, you can 
start the Chat into his jumble of sounds, the 
most peculiar notes, in some respects, of the 
bird choir. His antics are in keeping with his 
utterances, and he is the veritable clown of 
bird-land. 

They build a large nest of coarse grass, leaves 
and bark, lined with fine grass, in bushes near the 
ground. The eggs are white, evenly spotted 
with brown. This bird ranges north to New 
England in summer and winters in Central 
America. 

Black-poll Warbler. This plainly dressed 
Warbler might easily be told by the black cap he 
wears, suggested by his name. But an easier way, 
perhaps, to identify him, as it will save you 
many a scramble in the thicket, is by his thin, 
wiry song, a monotonous "tsee, tsee, tsee, tsee, 
tsee, tsee, " in effect not unlike the sound made 
by filing a saw. WTien you first hear it you would 
probably take it for the sound of a cicada, were 
it not too early in the season for the shrill notes 
of that insect. Beginning low, the notes in- 



190 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

crease toward the middle and diminish toward 
the end, forming a musical swell that is almost 
perfect. While a unique and highly interesting 
performance, it is hardly worthy to be called 
a song. I have never heard any other sound 
from the Black-poll, but it is said to have a call 
note "tsip" or " chip" that is occasionally heard. 

They are the least restive of the Warblers I 
have observed. Perched on a dead tree, I have 
heard him trill his quaint lay for a half hour 
without stopping to catch fly or beetle that 
might chance to go droning by. 

In summer they seek evergreen trees in the 
forest, where they build from four to ten feet 
above the ground. The nest is made of fine root- 
lets, twigs, moss and grasses, lined with fine 
grass or feathers. The eggs are usually white, 
spotted with brown or lilac. The crown of the 
male is black, the nape black, streaked with 
white, and there is a dash of white over the eye. 
The back is grayish, streaked with white, and 
there are two white wing bars. The white under 
parts are streaked with black, more prominent 
on the sides. With the female the crown is less 
black, the back is inclined toward olive-green 
and the under parts are yellowish. Black-polls 
are about six inches in length. They nest from 
northern New England to Greenland and in 
Alaska, wintering in South America. 

Ovenbird. This very attractive little War- 
bler is sf> different from all others in habits 
and notes that he will be easily identified when 
once you meet him. Contrary to the habits of 
his cousins, he spends the most of his time on 



WOOD WARBLERS 191 

the ground, walking sedately about in quest of 
his food, bugs, grubs and various insects. In 
manner of movement and pose he reminds one 
of the larks. In flight he seems like a Thrush and 
formerly was grouped with that family under 
the name of Golden-crowned Thrush; but 
more careful investigation caused him to be 
classified as a Warbler. 

He is a very common inhabitant of the leafy 
woods of the Northern States in summer, where 
his peculiar notes are heard almost constantly. 
Beginning low, they increase in volume, with 
explosive emphasis at the end. Mr. Burroughs 
very fittingly represented his notes thus: 
" Teacher, Teacher, Teacher, TEACHER, 
TEACHER." This interpretation was seen to 
be so fitting it has come to be almost universally 
known as the Teacher Bird. This strain is not 
melodious, but is decidedly energetic and sug- 
gestive of cool, sylvan retreats and leafy bowers 
with carpets of dun brown. 

The Ovenbird is slightly longer than the 
Black-poll and stouter. The crown is bright 
orange bordered with black lines. Elsewhere 
the upper parts are olive-green somewhat tinged 
with brown. The under parts are white with the 
sides of the throat, breast and sides heavily 
marked with dark brown. It is a handsome 
bird, pert in bearing and smart in dress. The 
name, Ovenbird, comes from its unique nest 
built almost wholly of dry leaves and roofed 
over like a Dutch oven. Placed on the ground 
in the midst of a thick carpet of dead leaves, 
it is most difficult to find unless one chances 



192 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

upon it quite by accident. The four or five eggs 
are white, spotted with brown. They nest from 
Virginia and Kansas northward to Manitoba 
and Labrador and winter from Florida south- 
ward. 

Water Thrush. While this bird bears the 
name Thrush, it is a Warbler nevertheless. As 
I had found them singly here and there in my 
bird studies, I supposed them to be compara- 
tively rare birds until last May when I found 
them in Forest Park, New York City, so abun- 
dant that for a time I could hardly believe it pos- 
sible. In spring there are in the park a number 
of hollows rilled with water/ little lagoons which 
are dry in midsummer. About these and the 
marshes, Water Thrushes were in scores and 
hundreds. But their stay was brief, and on 
they went to their nesting grounds in the north. 
This is a good-sized Warbler with rather long 
legs, which tilts its tail like the Yellow Palm. 
The upper parts are uniform olive-brown with 
a buffy line over the eye. The under parts are 
white tinged with yellow, and everywhere 
streaked with black. Male and female have the 
same dress. 

The Water Thrush excels as a singer. When 
I first heard it I was quite amazed at the vol- 
ume and variety of its notes. Perched on a tree 
above a babbling stream that rushes down 
from the mountain side through alder thickets, it 
sang a wild and varied, yet melodious lay. The 
effect was marvelous, and to my sense, this 
Warbler takes rank with the very best singers 
of the family. 



WOOD WARBLERS 193 

The nest is often placed in the upturned roots 
of a tree, or is safely tucked away in a mossy 
bank. It is made of moss, lichens and fine roots. 
The eggs are four or five in number, speckled 
with fine brown spots about the larger end. 
The Water Thrush is rather more than six 
inches long. The nesting range is from northern 
New England north to Labrador and New- 
foundland. They winter in the West Indies and 
Central America. A very similar variety, called 
the Louisiana Water Thrush, has a more south- 
ern range in summer, advancing north to Con- 
necticut. The colors are similar to the above, 
except that the line over the eye is white and 
the middle of the throat and belly are un- 
streaked. This bird is also slightly larger than 
the Water Thrush. 

Canadian Warbler. This is a very beau- 
tiful bird, common enough in its nesting grounds 
from central New England northward. They 
are often seen with other Warblers during migra- 
tion, but in the breeding season they frequent 
the deep woods usually near the water, where 
birch, beech and maple mingled with ever- 
greens make a dense bower of green. The upper 
parts are a handsome gray. The crown is spotted 
with black, and a region about the eye, below 
and behind, is black. The under parts are 
bright yellow with a line of black spots about 
the neck like a necklace. A line from the bill 
over the eye is yellow. The female has a similar 
dress, but the spots on the breast are much 
lighter. Their song is animated and melodious, 
sometimes rendered as "tre, tre, tsme, tre, tre." 



194 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

They build a nest of bits of bark, dry leaves, 
moss and rootlets, on the ground by a clump of 
ferns, under a log or hummock, or in the up- 
turned roots of a tree. The eggs are white, 
thickly spotted with brown. 

The Magnolia Warbler. The prevailing 
colors of this Warbler's plumage have given it 
the name of Black and Yellow Warbler. It is 
rather strikingly marked and is an easy bird to 
identify. The back of the male is black bor- 
dered with olive-green; the crown is gray, the 
cheeks and forehead black, with a line of white 
behind the eye. The lower parts, throat and 
rump are bright yellow, the breast and sides 
strongly streaked with black. The tail is black 
with the inner veins of all except the middle 
feathers patched with white midway, leaving the 
terminals black. There is also a white patch on 
the wing coverts. The female's dress is similar 
but the colors are less distinct. 

The song of the Magnolia is loud and clear, 
somewhat like that of the Yellow Warbler in 
tone, and has been likened to the syllables 
"chee-to, chee-to, chee-tee-ee," uttered rapidly 
and with falling inflection. The nest of plant 
fibre, bark, roots and grass, is usually placed in 
a bush near the ground. The eggs are white, 
thickly marked with cinnamon-brown about 
the larger end. The Magnolia breeds from 
northern New Jersey to Newfoundland and 
winters in Central America. They seek tracts 
that are openly wooded, the edges of the forest, 
and bushy pastures. 

Blackburnian Warbler. This bird is a dweller 



WOOD WARBLERS 195 

in the evergreens, and even during migration 
he is more often found in dark woods than 
in the open country. As he spends most of 
his time in the treetops, it is not altogether 
easy to make his acquaintance, although his 
beautiful plumage makes him rather a showy 
bird. It is almost always by tracing a rather 
shrill song to its source that I find him, not a 
difficult task as he is a constant singer and his 
clear notes are distinctly audible. "Wee-see- 
wee-see-wee-see, " he sings to his busy mate, who, 
no doubt, is much cheered by his tuneful effort. 
He is a willing helper in the many duties of 
nest building and rearing the young. 

Black, white and orange are the colors of the 
Blackburnian, so strikingly arranged as to 
make him one of our most attractive Warblers. 
The crown, back of the neck and back are black, 
and the sides are streaked with black. The 
center of the crown, line over the eye, patch 
behind the ear coverts, throat and breast are 
rich orange. The back and tail are streaked 
with white and there is a white patch on the 
wings. With the female the orange is much 
duller, the back is olive-gray, and there is much 
less white. The nest of fine twigs and grass is 
placed high above the ground in evergreen 
trees. The four whitish eggs are spotted and 
dashed with brown. They range in summer 
from northern New England to Labrador and 
winter in the tropics. This bird is about five 
and one-fourth inches long. 



Chapter XIII 

BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES 

Blue Heron, Sandpiper, Bittern, King- 
fisher Waxwings, Cuckoos, Mourning 
Dove, Bob-White,Tanager, Chimney Swift, 
Nighthawk, Whippoorwill, Starling, 
Shrikes. 

"Lo! a great blue heron. Seeing us approach, it spread its long wings 
and flew solemnly across to a dead tree on the other side of the lake, 
enhancing rather than relieving the loneliness and desolation that 
brooded over the scene." 

— The Adirondacks, John Burroughs. 

The birds considered in this chapter belong 
to several different families. In no instance 
are more than two or three varieties of a family 
described, in several families but a single variety. 

Great Blue Heron. Of all the feathered so- 
journers of our Northern States this Heron is 
by far the most picturesque; and one of the 
saddest tragedies in bird life is seen in his rap- 
idly diminishing numbers. In my youth he was 
a very common bird about the ponds and rivers 
of the neighborhood. Last summer, although I 
many times visited their former haunts, I did not 
see a Blue Heron in that vicinity. Later, how- 
ever, on my trip in the West Branch waters, 
several were seen in the marshes that border 
river and lake, indicating that the few that 

196 




GREAT BLUE HERON 



BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES 197 

remain have taken to the protection of the 
wilderness. A few years since, while fishing on 
Mooseluckmaguntic Lake, the guide told me that 
he, in company with other guides, was accus- 
tomed to visit each year a nesting colony of 
Blue Herons to destroy the young, and that 
they were usually very successful. This destruc- 
tion was justified, in the guide's mind, by the 
fact that the Blue Heron, being a fish eater, 
catches many young trout, thus notably dimin- 
ishing the fisherman's chances. Such destruc- 
tion, together with that which results from the 
inability on the part of hunters to resist the 
temptation offered by so good a "mark," has 
been the main cause of the diminishing num- 
bers of this noble creature. 

As fish and frogs comprise the main part of 
his food, the Heron spends much time among 
the reeds and rushes that border lakes, ponds 
and streams. There his colors so perfectly 
blend with the hues about him that he is well 
protected. But a strange noise causes him to 
raise his long neck, when be becomes very con- 
spicuous. He is the tallest of our birds, being 
more than four feet in height, and his great 
wings have a spread of five to six feet. The 
neck and legs are very slender, the bill, six 
inches long, is heavy at the base, tapering to a 
sharp point, a most effective instrument which 
he uses with great precision. 

The plumage of the Great Blue Heron is 
pleasing to the eye. The back, rump and wing 
coverts are a handsome slate blue. The head, 
neck and breast are streaked black, white and 



198 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

yellowish, and there are long feathers like 
plumes pendent on the back of the head, while 
long and very narrow feathers at the base of the 
neck form a sort of ruff. The bend of the wing 
and the leg feathers are chestnut. These birds 
breed in evergreen trees usually in colonies, the 
nest being merely a rude platform of sticks 
high above the ground. In summer they range 
over North America to Hudson Bay, wintering 
southward to Cuba. Their only cry is a hoarse 
"quawk, quawk," uttered when in flight. 

Spotted Sandpiper. The Spotted Sandpiper 
is a very familiar bird about our lakes and 
streams and along the seashore as well. He 
belongs to a large family of shore birds, among 
them being many that are regarded as lawful 
game. This is by far the most common of the 
family, and in summer his range is very wide. 
He is a friendly, trustful little fellow, so lovable 
that he has made a great many friends, of some 
of whom he may well be proud. That gentle 
poet, Celia Thaxter, wrote a beautiful little poem 
on this bird which has been much admired. 

Few sounds are more often heard by the vaca- 
tionist, who, in boat or canoe, threads our in- 
land waterways than the plaintive "tweet, 
tweet" of the Sandpiper. He springs up from 
the shore just ahead of you, swings out in a 
wide circle to a point some distance in advance 
of your craft, and lighting again, runs along 
shore, halting ever and anon to watch your 
progress. He has a peculiar teetering or balanc- 
ing motion of the body which has given him 
the name of "Steel yard Bird," or "Teeter- 



BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES 199 

up." He nests near the shore, or in a field or 
pasture, near water, building a very poor nest of 
grass which merely serves as a receptacle for 
the eggs. Since the young birds run almost as 
soon as hatched, they have little need of a home. 
The eggs are very large, of light tan color, 
thickly spotted with dark brown. 

The Spotted Sandpiper is rather a handsome 
bird, although there are no brilliant colors in 
his plumage. The upper parts are grayish 
brown with just a shade of green. The head and 
neck are streaked with black and the back has 
spots of the same color. The tail feathers have 
dark bars and streaks, and the light under parts 
are heavily spotted with dark brown. They 
have long legs, large eyes and a sharp bill. They 
are about seven and one-half inches in length. 
Their summer range extends as far north as 
Hudson Bay and they winter in Brazil. 

American Bittern. Another inhabitant of 
the grassy marshes and swamps in summer is 
the American Bittern, or Stake Driver as he is 
sometimes called. This name arises from the 
supposed likeness of one of his utterances to 
the sound made by striking a stake with an axe. 
To my sense the peculiar cry of the Bittern is 
best represented by the words " plunk- er-lunk, 
plunk-er-lunk," a sound not unlike that pro- 
duced when using an old-fashioned wooden 
pump. This is "the booming of the Bittern." 

The American Bittern is a member of the 
Heron family. It is more than two feet in 
height. The upper parts are mottled brownish, 
the throat is whitish, and there is a shiny-black 



200 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

streak on either side of the neck. The under 
parts are creamy buff, streaked and dashed 
with brown. The legs are yellowish. There are 
few better examples of protective coloring than 
that furnished by this bird. So closely do his 
colors conform to the browns and yellows of 
his usual haunts that he is quite hidden from 
the careless eye. When in danger of being dis- 
covered he will sometimes point his larpe bill 
upward and stand so motionless that it is very 
difficult to distinguish him from his surround- 
ings. When in this position, if the wind springs 
up, it is said he will move in unison with the 
swaying reeds and grasses, the better to cany- 
out the deception. 

The nest of the Bittern, made of coarse grass 
and rushes, is placed on the ground in marshes 
and swamps. The eggs, three to five in number, 
are drab or slate-gray. They arrive in late April 
or early May and range in summer throughout 
the East, north of Virginia. They are not com- 
mon birds, and rarely are more than a single 
pair found in a marsh. They winter from Vir- 
ginia southward. 

Belted Kingfisher. A fish-eating bird, very 
common in summer about the lakes and streams 
of the North, is the Belted Kingfisher. His 
method of fishing is quite unlike that of the 
Blue Heron or Loon, and is much more spec- 
tacular. From some stub or limb hanging over 
the water, he watches with keen eye for the 
small fish which constitute his food. When he 
catches a glimpse of fin or shining back near the 
surface, down drops this fisher like a plummet, 



tM§k 




BELTED K I X < ; I ■' I S 1 1 ER 



BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES 201 

head first, straight into the water, seizing the 
fish in his strong beak; then he rises again to his 
perch, or swings along the shore to his nest 
with a rattle of triumph. Often when in full 
flight, catching sight of a fish near the surface, 
he hovers for a moment by very rapid move- 
ment of his wings as though to steady himself 
for the plunge. But he does not always catch 
his prey, and dives again and again before 
his efforts are rewarded. Unlike the Osprey, his 
talons are not adapted for striking and holding 
the fish, but his large, strong bill is an excellent 
implement. Sometimes you will see him come 
up with wriggling minnow, which he strikes 
sharply against the limb, probably to stun it 
before swallowing; at other times the poor vic- 
tim disappears with no ceremony. 

This bird, too, has fallen under the ban of the 
guides of the north woods, because of the large 
number of small trout and salmon he destroys. 
But their wholesale destruction is not so easily 
accomplished as in the case of the Blue Heron, for 
Kingfishers nest in single pairs in a secure cham- 
ber at the end of a tunnel five or six feet long, 
excavated in a sand bank. The nest consists of 
a rough collection of grass, fish bones, bark, 
sticks, etc., and is not a savory place. As a 
nest builder he has little skill, but he returns 
to the same hole year after year. 

The Belted Kingfisher is a bird of striking 
appearance. On his rather large head is a prom- 
inent crest, almost black, which gives him a some- 
what belligerent look. The back, tail and a band 
across the white breast are a handsome bluish- 



202 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

gray color. The wings and tail are speckled with 
white, the throat and sides of the neck are 
white, and there is a spot of white in front of 
the eye. With the female the band on the 
breast and the sides are brownish. The King- 
fisher is more than a foot long and rather thick- 
set. They have a wide summer range, from the 
Gulf States to Labrador, and winter from Vir- 
ginia to the tropics. 

Cedar Waxwing. These birds are veritable 
nomads. So strong in them is the love for the 
life of a rover that they postpone the nesting 
until summer is well advanced, and no sooner 
are the young able to fly freely, than they again 
take up their wanderings. Even in late August 
I have found their nests with eggs unhatched. 
This means that the young are scarcely full 
grown before the return of Jack Frost. During 
at least ten months of the year they roam over 
a wide range of country in small bands, seeking 
a food supply which varies much with the 
seasons. During the cold months they feed 
upon cedar berries; later they develop a taste 
for cherries, and at times the berry patches are 
the center of their activities. Besides, they are 
expert flycatchers, and at nesting time insects 
form a large part of their food. 

Both in manner and dress the Cedar Wax- 
wing is one of our most refined birds. The deli- 
cate coloring of their plumage, to my sense, is 
not surpassed in attractiveness in the whole 
bird wprld. It has been compared to the ex- 
quisite tints of a Japanese water color. The 
upper parts are brownish-gray, shading into a 




CEDAR WAXWING 



BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES 203 

faint yellow underneath. A rich black line runs 
through the eye back to the prominent crest. 
The tail has a terminal band of handsome yel- 
low; on the wing is a dash of bright red like 
sealing wax, and the chin and forehead are 
black. The female has much the same colors 
but more subdued, and the crest is smaller. 
These birds are about seven inches in length. 

The Waxwing's manners are what one would 
expect in a bird so tastefully dressed. They 
seem to be always courteous and amiable, re- 
fined and undemonstrative in their ways. They 
are strangely silent; but a single note have I 
ever heard them utter, a faint lisping "tseep," 
which is sometimes likened to beads strung on a 
string. When one approaches their nest there 
is no protest. The mother bird stares at you 
with steady eye until you can almost reach her, 
then slips away without a sound. The nest, 
which I usually find in the orchard or in the 
alders on the river bank, is a flat, shallow struc- 
ture of sticks, moss, grass, bark, leaves, etc. 
The dull, bluish-gray eggs are spotted irregu- 
larly with dark brown. They range over eastern 
North America, in summer as far north as Lab- 
rador. Some winter in New England and New 
York, others wander as far south as Central 
America. 

The Bohemian Waxwing has a more northern 
range and is rather rare in the United States. 
Occasionally they wander as far south as New 
York City. They are somewhat larger than 
their cousins, but in dress, habits and notes are 
similar. 



204 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

Black-billed Cuckoo. To the Nature lover 
certain times of the year are associated with 
certain sounds, and he is not at all satisfied 
if each hurrying season does not bring to his 
yearning ear its characteristic voices. For me, 
the welcome, though strident frog chorus and 
the faith-inspiring strain of the Song Sparrow 
are so intimately associated with the advent 
of spring that I cannot fully realize that the 
season of Nature's awakening has really come 
until I have received the message from these 
never failing heralds. The first scent of clover 
always assures me that the Bobolinks are tink- 
ling gaily over the broad grass fields at home, 
for to me clover blossoms and Bobolink song 
are closely associated. And with the coming of 
the sultry days when summer seems to settle 
down for her busy season, I listen intently for 
the strange, mellow, elusive "k, k, koo, koo, koo, 
koo, koo, " the fascinating call of the Black-billed 
Cuckoo. 

Something in the quality of these notes sug- 
gests the makeup of the bird, both as to appear- 
ance and character. As this call is uncertain 
and unobtrusive, so the bird is shy and retiring, 
with nothing of bustle or bluster about it. 
Sometimes in August from the lawn I hear the 
gentle "koo, koo," but am not at first able to 
say whether the bird is in a near-by tree, or 
a half mile away in the woods. On silent 
wing he slips into the thick foliage, blending 
so perfectly with his surroundings that he is 
quite hidden. If there is a caterpillar's nest 
in the tree, he is soon very busy with these 



BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES 205 

spinous tidbits, doing us a real service in their 
destruction. They eat a large number of cater- 
pillars, so many, in fact, that the walls of their 
stomachs are full of the spines, a condition 
which does not seem to interfere with the bird's 
happiness. 

The nesting habits of the Cuckoo are such as 
one expects from a bird of eccentric character. 
The nest is little more than a platform of sticks, 
so carelessly made as to afford little protection 
to the fledglings, and it is so flat that often the 
young fall out; but because of its low position 
they do not have far to fall. The eggs are 
laid at most irregular intervals, so there are 
often newly hatched youngsters, others half 
grown, and eggs in the nest at the same time. 
Sometimes, if you chance upon the nest of the 
Cuckoo, the owners will leave and not return, 
abandoning eggs and young to their fate. They 
are very tame birds, permitting near approach 
without taking alarm. When perched they have 
rather a crouching position and the long tail 
droops. They seem languid, even lazy, in all 
their movements except when feeding. 

The Black-billed Cuckoo is larger than the 
Robin, being about a foot in length. The upper 
parts are a grayish olive-brown, the under parts 
whitish, and the wing feathers are narrowly 
tipped with white. The long, slightly curved 
bill is black. They range over North America 
east of the Rocky Mountains, breeding from 
the Gulf of Mexico to Labrador. They winter 
in South America, and are among the arrivals 
in early May. 



206 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

Yellow-billed Cuckoo. This Cuckoo very 
closely resembles the Black-billed in size and 
plumage, but there are slight differences in 
coloring that render the identification compar- 
atively easy. The wing feathers are tinged with 
rufous, the black tail feathers are heavily tipped 
with white, and the under mandible is yellow. 
Otherwise the coloring is the same. It seems 
that their range differs somewhat, for in Maine, 
where the Black-billed is a common bird, the 
Yellow-billed is rare, except in the southwestern 
portion. Its notes are harsher and more varied. 
Its feeding and nesting habits are very similar, 
and its domestic affairs in general are as badly 
managed. Farmers are coming to more fully 
recognize the value of these birds, for a pair will 
destroy all the caterpillars in a goodly area in 
the orchard, and they also eat beetles, moths, 
grasshoppers and crickets. Sometimes luscious 
blackberries and raspberries seem too attractive 
for them to resist, but the harm they do to fruit 
and berries is slight. 

Mourning Dove. Of this numerous family 
the Mourning Dove is the only one now resident 
in the Northern States, if we except the Domes- 
tic Pigeons. Formerly the Wild Pigeon was so 
numerous that when migrating the flocks were 
said to "darken the sun." And when alighting 
in the forest, their combined weight was suffi- 
cient to break down great trees. They were 
trapped and shot by hundreds and thousands, 
sold for a trifle, and in many cases, where there 
was no market close at hand, were fed to the 
pigs. This ruthless destruction went on until, 



life 




1 - 



YELLOW-BILLED CUCKOO 



BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES 207 

so far as ornithologists are able to determine, 
these beautiful creatures were exterminated. 
At least they have entirely disappeared from 
this part of the world. It is now more than 
thirty years since the last flock was seen, and a 
reward of a large sum of money offered for 
proof of a pair of nesting Wild Pigeons still re- 
mains unclaimed. There are few better, or 
worse, examples of the extermination of a once 
numerous creature. It is paralleled in the case 
of the American Bison, except in their case the 
destruction was halted just before the last were 
destroyed. 

The Mourning Dove is a summer resident of 
the North, not common, however, except south 
of New England. Rarely a straggler reaches 
southern Maine. They are about a foot long, 
and plump. The upper parts are olive-brown 
with a tone of bluish-gray; the neck and head 
show metallic lustre, and there is a small black 
mark below the ear. The outer tail feathers are 
slate-gray towards the base; outward they are 
banded with black and tipped with white. The 
breast is buff, the under parts otherwise lighter. 
The female has similar colorings, but rather 
duller and without the metallic lustre. 

In flight there is a sharp whistling sound made 
by the wings. They nest in a very rude struc- 
ture of sticks, scarcely more than a platform, so 
poorly constructed that sometimes the fledg- 
lings fall through. Often they occupy an old 
nest of Robin or Grackle. They usually frequent 
open woods where the nest is placed in a tree at 
some distance above the ground. The plaintive 



208 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

call of the male, "coo-o-o, ah-coo-o-oo-c-oo," 
has determined its name, for there is a distinct 
tone of sadness about it, and it is uttered, ap- 
parently, with much feeling. After the breeding 
season they gather in small flocks. They winter 
from New Jersey to the West Indies. 

Scarlet Tanager. The Tanagers are a very 
large American family, for the most part inhab- 
itants of the tropics. But two varieties visit 
eastern North America, the Scarlet Tanager 
and the Summer Tanager, the latter rarely ven- 
turing farther north than southern New Jersey. 

I see the Scarlet Tanager among the leafing 
trees of the parks in Brooklyn about the tenth 
of May, and the sight of this beautiful bird is 
always a delight to me. Although they are found 
occasionally in Maine, it has never been my 
good fortune to find them there, and conse- 
quently there is for me a thrill of exultation 
whenever I find them in their more common 
haunts of New Jersey or Long Island. 

The male Scarlet Tanager is our most bril- 
liantly colored bird. His suit is a handsome 
scarlet with black wings and tail and a dash of 
white on the under wing coverts. This gay dress 
is worn during the mating and nesting season 
and doffed with the approach of autumn. He 
then puts on a sober dress of light olive-green 
which is quite similar to that of his mate. In 
her case this coloring is well adapted for con- 
cealment when nesting. The female has the 
under parts yellowish-green, the wings and tail 
umber brown. These Tanagers are not good 
builders, their nest being loosely built of grass, 



BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES 209 

sticks and fibres, placed on a horizontal limb of 
oak or hemlock at considerable distance from 
the ground. The male is very solicitous of the 
welfare of his mate during the period of incuba- 
tion, feeding her, and at times spelling her. 
When the fledglings appear, both parents care 
for them. 

The song of this Tanager has been likened to 
the songs of the Robin, Rose-breasted Grosbeak 
and Baltimore Oriole, and there is an element of 
similarity. But the likeness is only slight after 
all, for he has his own lay. It is not clear like 
the Robin's, but is rather hoarse, "a monoto- 
nous 'chip, churr? repeated at short intervals, in 
a pensive tone." There is about the Tanager's 
song a distinctive quality that renders it so 
attractive that one could enjoy him as a neigh- 
bor for his song alone; this with his gorgeous 
dress makes him one of the most admired of 
the summer host. 

I usually find the Scarlet Tanager in second- 
growth woods and bush-grown tracts, some- 
times in the orchard where their fire red makes 
a striking picture when seen amid the blossom- 
ing trees. Formerly they were much more com- 
mon than now, as they have fallen prey to the 
feather hunters who sought their poor bodies 
to adorn ladies' hats. With the enacting of 
laws in nearly all of the States, looking to 
the better protection of bird life, the Tanager 
has again become more common with us. They 
range in summer from the Ohio River and Vir- 
ginia northward to the St. Lawrence and Man- 
itoba, wintering in the tropics. They are more 



210 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

numerous in the southern portion of their sum- 
mer range. They are about seven and one-half 
inches in length. 

Chimney Swift. Although this bird is more 
often called the Chimney Swallow and classed 
with that family, it is not a Swallow but, in fact, 
is entirely distinct. It belongs to a group num- 
bering some seventy-five varieties of which this 
is the only one common in eastern North Amer- 
ica. This bird, like the Swallows, feeds upon 
insects taken on the wing. Its body is slender 
and its wings long, giving it great strength and 
rapidity of flight, but there is lacking the grace 
of the Swallows. 

The plumage is a dull, sooty, grayish-black, 
well suited, you would say, to a bird seeking its 
nesting site in a hollow tree, dark cave, or un- 
used chimney. The tail feathers have sharp 
spines like the Woodpecker's, which assist greatly 
in clinging to perpendicular surfaces. The nest 
is a simple little shelf of sticks fastened to the 
side of the chimney or hollow tree, by means of 
a sticky saliva which is secreted by glands in 
the bird's mouth. Their only notes are rapidly 
uttered squeaks heard only when the bird is 
flying. They are about five and one-half inches 
in length. They usually rear two broods each 
year, but their precarious nesting sites render 
the fate of their broods somewhat uncertain. 
They range in summer from Florida to Labra- 
dor, wintering in Central America. They arrive 
toward the end of April. 

At Katahdin Iron Works, in the Maine woods, 
there is an old furnace with a stone chimney 




CIMAINKY SWIFT 



BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES 211 

some ten feet square, long since abandoned. 
This is the home of scores, probably hundreds 
of these birds. At twilight, when they are most 
active, there is a stream of sooty Swifts passing 
in and out with a booming sound as of distant 
thunder. This has been their favorite haunt for 
many years, furnishing more space for their nests 
than would many chimneys; and it is much safer, 
as there is no danger of their being smoked out. 

Nighthawk. Two birds often confused in 
the public mind are the Nighthawk and Whip- 
poorwill. They belong to the same family, are 
about the same size, ten inches in length, and 
there is at first glance a similarity in coloring. 
But in notes, flight and habits in general, they 
are quite unlike; and a little care in observation 
will enable one to discriminate between them 
with absolute certainty. 

The Nighthawk is not often seen perched, but 
on the wing they are common enough in city 
and country. They are not much in evidence 
in the early part of the day, but in the afternoon 
they course about, often at a height of several 
hundred feet, in what seems to us very erratic 
movements, catching the insects which consti- 
tute their entire food supply. They have no 
song, but their only note, a nasal " peent, fieent" 
is often heard far into the night; and it seems 
they can see to feed in the dark as well as in 
the daylight. 

Some of their aerial evolutions are quite 
startling. Every now and then as one of these 
birds flies about, he will suddenly plunge down- 
ward with a great swoop, sometimes so near to 



212 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

the ground that you will fear for his safety. 
But in good time he turns sharply and grace- 
fully upward, and goes unharmed on his zig-zag 
course. The downward plunge is accompanied 
by a deep booming sound caused by the rush 
of air through the stiff primaries. So the Night- 
hawk is sometimes called the "bass trumpet 
player in Nature's orchestra." 

While the Nighthawk is about the size of the 
Robin, because of the long wings they seem 
much larger in flight. The upper parts are 
blackish marked with irregular spots of white 
or cream-buff. The black tail has broken bars of 
cream-buff, and the outer feathers are banded 
with white near the tips. The breast is black and 
the throat has a white patch; otherwise the under 
parts are barred with black and white. The best 
field mark when the bird is in flight is the white 
spot on either wing, which looks like a hole. 

When not on the wing the Nighthawk perches 
on a low limb, fence rail, rock, and even on the 
ground, if there are no trees or other perches 
about. In the city he rests on flat-roofed houses. 
Sometimes the two eggs are deposited on a loose 
pile of sticks; often there is no nest at all and 
the eggs are laid on the bare rock or house roof. 
The eggs are said to vary in color, seemingly 
the better to harmonize with the surrounding 
objects. Nighthawks range in summer from the 
Gulf of Mexico to Labrador, and winter in 
South America. They are among the arrivals of 
late May. 

Whippoorwill. While the Nighthawk is 
rarely seen except in flight, the Whippoorwill 



BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES 213 

is rarely seen at all, but is well known by his 
weird call, a cry so strange and so emphatic that 
it is most startling, especially when heard near 
at hand in the deepening twilight. When the 
songsters have closed their evening praise ser- 
vice and settled quietly on some safe perch for 
the night, this nocturnal wanderer sallies forth 
for his period of activity. Low over bush-grown 
pasture or old field on noiseless wing he courses 
back and forth, picking up a meal of insects as 
he goes. 

At intervals he lights and takes up his metal- 
lic call "whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will," wholly 
unlike any other sound in Nature, so strange and 
characteristic that it will never be mistaken. 
This alternate feeding and " whipping" is kept 
up for several hours, then the bird rests for a 
time. Toward morning, before the other birds 
are astir, he sets out again and seeks his break- 
fast, finally with the coming of dawn settling 
down for the day. 

The Whippoorwill always perches, or rather 
crouches, lengthwise of limb, fence rail, rock, or 
other object, because its small, weak feet do not 
seem strong enough to enable it to cling to a 
perch as do other birds. Its colors are such as to 
harmonize with its chosen surroundings, from 
which fact the bird seems to derive a deep sense 
of security, for you may approach very close 
before it will seek safety in flight. The general 
color is reddish-brown, mottled with grayish- 
black and dusky white. The most conspicuous 
mark is a white band, or crescent, across the 
throat; the tip end half of the outer tail feathers 



214 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

is also white. The lower parts are cream-buff 
with irregular markings of brown. The bill, flat 
and very wide at the base, is surrounded by 
stiff, bristlelike feathers like the feelers of a cat. 
Perhaps they fulfill the same purpose! As this 
bird is rarely seen in daylight, its appearance 
is little known. 

Whippoorwills, as a rule, build no nests, 
but lay the two dark eggs spotted with creamy 
white in a slight hollow on the ground, on a 
bare rock, log or stump. They range in sum- 
mer from Virginia to New Brunswick and winter 
from Florida to Central America. They arrive 
in late April or early May. Little is known 
regarding their migrations, as they journey 
by night. Like Nighthawks, Whippoorwills 
are excellent friends of man, since their food 
consists wholly of insects. They destroy count- 
less numbers of these pests, thereby adding 
greatly to the return from orchard, field and 
garden. 

Starling. This is the only American repre- 
sentative of an Old World family that numbers 
something like two hundred species. More than 
twenty years ago about thirty pairs of Star- 
lings were imported from England and set free 
in Central Park, New York City. They have 
found the climate and food conditions so satis- 
factory that they have increased greatly in 
number, and now are very numerous in all 
boroughs of Greater New York. They are grad- 
ually increasing their range and are now found 
more than a hundred miles away. 

Starlings are gregarious except during the 



BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES 215 

nesting season. One autumn day, in Flatbush, 
near Sheepshead Bay, I saw a flock that I be- 
lieved numbered several thousand birds. It 
is said that in England as many as one hun- 
dred thousand will gather in a flock, and when 
they settle in a field of ripe grain the damage 
done is serious. It seems now that these birds 
are likely to increase here to an extent that will 
make them a menace to the farmer and gardener. 
Perhaps, after all, it is unwise to upset the bal- 
ance Nature has set by transporting birds from 
their natural habitat. At least in the cases of the 
English Sparrow and the Starling there is grave 
doubt as to the wisdom of their importation. 

Starlings are, however, not to be classed with 
English Sparrows in any way, for they are at- 
tractive, happy little fellows whose great variety 
of calls and whistles will keep one interested for 
a long time. I have often looked for the boy 
whose whistles came distinctly to my ear, only 
to find not a boy but a bird perched on limb or 
chimney top, so mischievous and saucy in his 
bearing that I could almost believe he was 
aware of the deception he was practicing. They 
are attractively clad in short-tailed suits of 
black with metallic lustre. The feathers are 
minutely tipped with buff, giving the bird, at 
some seasons, a speckled appearance when seen 
close at hand. The under parts are grayish- 
brown, and the bill is yellow. The female is 
rusty brown. They are slightly more than 
eight inches long. 

Starlings nest in hollow trees, crevices about 
roofs and towers, in leaders and corners of house 



216 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

roofs; in fact, in anyplace sufficiently sheltered 
to meet their needs. They seem especially fond 
of a neatly constructed birdhouse set safely 
above the range of the house cat. The nest is 
loosely made of grasses and twigs. The four to 
six pale-blue eggs are usually laid in early May. 

Starlings have no song in the true sense, but 
they have a great variety of calls and whistles 
that are highly pleasing, especially when heard 
in the heart of the city where bird notes are so 
rare. Perched some distance above the ground, 
with swelling throat and drooping wings, they 
call and whistle for a considerable time, then 
drop down to the lawn or garden, where they 
walk about looking for the crumbs, berries, grain, 
insects, etc., which make up their food. They 
are permanent residents. The extent of their 
ultimate range in America is a very interesting 
question. 

Northern Shrike. This is a bird that comes 
down to us in the fall from his summer range 
in Canada. He has not a good reputation and 
his bad habits have given him the name of 
Butcher Bird, which, it seems, he well deserves. 
In appearance, he is rather sleek and well 
groomed, and his colors are pleasing. The upper 
parts are a handsome slate-gray; the wings, tail 
and a stripe extending from the eye to the back 
of the head are black. The under parts are 
whitish, washed with brown. The tail is tipped 
with white and there are dashes of white on the 
wings, plainly seen in flight. The black bill is 
hooked like that of hawks and other birds of 
prey. 



BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES 217 

The silent flight of the Butcher Bird is usually 
low, but as he alights he turns upward to a high 
perch where he may overlook the surrounding 
landscape. His food consists of mice, lizards, 
grasshoppers, beetles, and small birds of 
many kinds. Frequently he kills more prey 
than his immediate needs demand and the sur- 
plus he impales on thorns or barbed wire fence, 
or hangs in the crotch of a limb, for future 
use. His sudden appearance in a flock of small 
birds causes great consternation and there is 
quick seeking of cover. Oftentimes he catches 
several from a single family and the bird chorus 
is sadly lessened. The fact that he is a consist- 
ent foe of the English Sparrow has led some 
bird writers to condone his faults, and they 
also plead his cause because of the great 
number of insects and vermin he destroys. No 
doubt, much as we regret his killing of our 
songsters, he does much more good than harm 
and should be encouraged, rather than destroyed. 
I confess it has not always been easy for 
me to refrain from using harsh measures 
when this marauder in gray appears on the 
lawn, watching furtively the flock of Song Spar- 
rows playing about the vines. But I am con- 
strained to believe he is on the whole beneficial. 

The Northern Shrike has a harsh, squally cry, 
"joree," and in the mating season they sing a 
song of considerable merit that has been likened 
to the melody of the Catbird. Only once have 
I heard this and I was quite surprised at the 
excellence of the effort, for I had never attached 
the gift of song to this cruel bird. They nest in 



218 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

Canada, wandering southward in winter, some- 
times as far as Virginia. They are about ten 
inches in length. 

Loggerhead Shrike. This is a smaller coun- 
terpart of the Butcher Bird, so nearly like 
him in plumage that only by close observation 
can they be distinguished. The breast of the 
Loggerhead is pure white, or gray, and the black 
stripes on the side of the head meet on the fore- 
head. They are one and one-half inches shorter 
than the Northern Shrike. In feeding and nest- 
ing habits they are much alike, but the logger- 
head has not quite so unsavory a reputation 
regarding the killing of small birds. Yet I feel 
sure they destroy fledglings and eggs, if not 
adult birds. 

For several years a pair of these Shrikes 
nested in a hackmatack tree by the roadside a 
half mile from our house. The nest, like that of 
the Blue Jay, was made of twigs and lined 
with coarse grass, and carefully hidden in a 
thick clump of limbs. About the first of August 
the parent birds would appear on our premises 
and from some exposed perch, the tiptop limb 
of an apple tree or telephone post, keep watch 
for passing prey. While I never actually caught 
them at mischief, I felt that the evidence against 
them was very^ strong. Early one morning there 
was an outcry from the Robin's nest in a low 
elm across the road. On going out we found the 
nest awry and the eggs gone; the Shrike was 
seen on a pole not far away. A Song Sparrow 
built a nest for its second brood in the thick 
woodbine just over the stable door. The nest 



BIRDS OF MANY FAMILIES 219 

was very deep and securely fastened. When the 
young were about half grown a disturbance was 
heard one day while we were at dinner. Upon 
investigation we found the nest upset and the dead 
fledglings on the ground with the tops of their 
skulls torn off. The Shrike was about, and we 
felt very sure he was the culprit. They, also eat 
beetles, grasshoppers, mice, lizards, etc. The 
Loggerhead is not a musician and its call notes 
are harsh. They breed over the United States 
from Minnesota east, south to Virginia, and in 
the lower Mississippi valley. Their winter range 
is somewhat farther south. 

Bob-white. A small cousin of the Ruffed 
Grouse is the Partridge, or Virginia Quail, more 
familiarly known as Bob-white. This bird has 
furnished so much sport for the hunter that his 
range is now much diminished and his numbers 
are greatly reduced. Formerly they were found 
as far north as Maine, but now have practically 
disappeared from that State and they are much 
less numerous in southern New England. 

Bob-white's dress is very tasteful. There are 
no brilliant colors, to be sure, but the blending 
of black, browns and grays is very pleasing and 
aids him much in concealment, for he is dis- 
tinctly a ground-dwelling bird. 

The upper parts are mottled browns and black, 
the under parts buff, or whitish marked with 
black and brown. The throat and forehead of 
the male are white and there is a white line over 
the eye; these markings on the female are buff. 

The simple nest of leaves and grass is placed 
on the ground under a protecting bush, stump 



220 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

or grass tuft. The white eggs are numerous, 
from twelve to twenty, and frequently two 
broods are reared in a season. The young run 
as soon as hatched and will hide in the leaves 
like little Grouse. There are few more cunning 
creatures than these little chicks when a few 
days old. At night and whenever they need pro- 
tection, the little mother gathers her brood 
under her like a hen, spreading her wings and 
feathers to cover them all. 

Bob-white is a permanent resident through- 
out his habitat, which covers the Eastern States 
and lower Canada. They rarely venture far 
from their native woods and fields, and, if left 
undisturbed, will breed year after year in the 
same locality. The families remain together 
through the winter unless broken up by the 
hunter, prowling fox or weasel. Toward 
spring they scatter, mating in April. Then is 
heard their well known call, "bob-white, bob- 
white, " so plainly uttered that their name is de- 
termined by it. There is a plaintive tone to this 
call that is quite appealing, and heard in the 
twilight of a soft spring day it compels a feeling 
of pity for his loneliness. They are friendly 
little fellows, visiting the garden to pick up 
grubs, seeds and scattered grain. But for our 
unfriendliness they would become as tame as 
Sparrows. 



Chapter XIV 
HAWKS AND OWLS 

"True to the season, o'er our sea-beat shore, 
The sailing osprey high is seen to soar. " 

— Alexander Wilson. 

Part I 

HAWKS 

In this chapter are considered Hawks and 
Owls, two families of birds that belong to the 
same order, the so-called birds of prey, having 
similar feeding habits. There has been con- 
siderable change of sentiment in this country 
in recent years regarding these birds, largely 
due to reports sent out from the Agricultural 
Department at Washington giving the truth 
regarding their food. Formerly it was believed 
that Hawks and Owls fed largely upon small 
birds, chickens, doves, etc., and, in consequence, 
there was much prejudice against them, and 
every farmer's gun was ready to destroy them 
indiscriminately whenever opportunity offered. 
But now that the truth has been discovered re- 
garding these " outlaws of bird land, " it is found 
that the real culprits belong to a few varieties 
and that only a small part of their food is made 
up of birds and chickens. In fact, they destroy 
a very large number of mice and other rodents, 
shrews and moles, grasshoppers and other in= 

221 



222 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

sects, toads, snakes, etc., thereby rendering the 
farmer a real service which he too long has over- 
looked. Two or three varieties of Hawks, how- 
ever, are poultry lovers, and will make consid- 
erable inroads in the farmyard if their course is 
not intercepted. 

The general makeup of the Hawks is quite 
adapted to their needs as hunters. Their colors, 
grays and browns, are unobtrusive, their strong 
wings give them power of direct, swift flight, 
and their talons and bills are just suited to their 
uses. Nature has very well equipped these 
birds for the methods they pursue. 

Marsh Hawk. This is the silver gray Hawk 
with the white patch on the rump, seen so often 
in summer flying low over the meadows, darting 
and turning in a most erratic course in search 
of mice and other dwellers in the thick grass. 
Often when hunting he utters a shrill cry which 
may be for the purpose of frightening small 
creatures into sudden movements, thus be- 
traying their presence to this sharp-eyed de- 
stroyer. 

This is a large Hawk, nearly twenty inches in 
length. The male, female and immature birds 
all differ in coloring. His color is distinctly gray, 
while theirs is quite brown. The upper parts and 
breast of the male are gray with the tail coverts 
white and black bars on the tail. The under 
parts are white with brown spots and bars. 
With the female the upper parts are dark brown, 
streaked on head and neck with lighter brown. 
Below the color is buff, streaked with dark 
brown. She, too, has a white patch on the 



\ 



HAWKS AND OWLS 223 

rump. The young are darker above than the 
female, and much darker below. 

The nest of the Marsh Hawk, on the ground 
in a swamp, is made of weeds, grass, rushes, etc., 
usually well concealed by its surroundings. 
The three to five pale bluish eggs are sometimes 
spotted with brown, but more often they are 
plain. 

During the mating season the Marsh Hawk 
performs some strange antics in the air. Some- 
times he will fly very high and then letting go, 
as it were, come tumbling down almost to the 
ground, uttering a shrill cry. It almost seems he 
is about to dash himself to pieces on the ground, 
but just in time he recovers himself and circles 
about in a rational way again. No doubt the 
purpose of these queer actions is to excite the 
admiration of the female, since he has no dulcet 
tones with which to woo her. This is a migrant 
Hawk, appearing in the vicinity of New York 
in April and departing in mid-autumn. Their 
range is very broad, but they are not numerous 
in any locality. 

The Sharp-shinned Hawk. This is a Hawk 
of bad reputation, whose habits no doubt have 
done much to give an evil name to the whole 
family. He has well earned the name Hen Hawk. 
The appetite for small birds and chickens seems 
very keen in him and he is exceedingly well 
equipped for his career as a true hunter. 
Their flight is low and very swift and they are 
bold to a remarkable degree. Sometimes one 
of these Hawks will plunge into a poultry 
yard and, almost in the owner's face, seize 



224 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

a chicken, apparently without fear of conse- 
quences. He will sometimes dart into a flock 
of song birds and with deadly precision pick out 
his chosen victim almost before the alarm can 
be given. Then away he flies to some safe perch 
where he may devour his prey at leisure. 

This Hawk is about a foot in length, and the 
tail is square, an excellent field mark. The 
upper parts are bluish-gray in color, the prima- 
ries being barred with blackish. The gray tail 
has a whitish tip with black bars across it. The 
under parts are white barred with bufT. The 
plumage of young birds shows more brown. 

They are often seen flying in small circles 
high in air, when they may be known by their 
small size and square tails. They nest in the 
woods in tall trees and are permanent residents 
in southern New England and the Middle 
States. In summer they range somewhat farther 
north. 

Cooper's Hawk. This Hawk resembles the 
foregoing in color, except that the crown is 
blackish. It is much larger, being about sixteen 
inches in length, and the tail is well rounded, a 
good field mark. This, too, is a real Hen Hawk 
and is even more destructive than the Sharp- 
shinned, because it is so much larger and stronger. 
When once this Hawk has had a taste of chicken 
it is not an easy matter to guard the flock against 
his persistent attacks. About the only safeguard 
then is to keep the poultry housed. These 
Hawks will attack and carry away rabbits, 
squirrels, Grouse, and under extreme conditions, 
even full-grown fowl. Its range is about the 



HAWKS AND OWLS 225 

same as that of the Sharp-shinned, except that 
it nests somewhat farther north. Its nesting 
habits, too, are practically the same. 

Red-shouldered Hawk. This is a large Hawk, 
about twenty inches in length. As is the case 
in almost all the varieties of this family, the 
female is notably larger than the male, a fact 
not easily accounted for. The head, back and 
rump are dark brown, mixed with lighter shades 
of tan. The shoulders are a handsome chestnut- 
brown, giving the bird its name. The black of 
the wings is mixed with white and there are 
white bars on the tail. The under parts are 
rusty brown, barred with whitish. Although 
this bird is also called a Hen Hawk, it does not 
deserve the name, for very rarely it invades the 
farmyard, and only when in extreme need of 
food. They subsist, for the most part, on small 
mammals, insects, reptiles, and rarely on small 
birds. 

These Hawks usually build a nest of twigs, 
leaves and moss in a tall evergreen tree, in the 
dense forest. They are great lovers of soli- 
tude, although often observed in the open. The 
breeding season is April. They are frequently 
seen sailing in graceful circles in the upper air, 
when they utter a shrill " kee-you, kee-you." 
They range throughout eastern North America 
north to Quebec and Manitoba, and are resi- 
dent throughout, except probably in the most 
northern part. These birds are of great value 
to the farmer because of the large number of 
pests they destroy, while the injury they work 
through the stealing of fowl is negligible. 



226 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

Red-tailed Hawk. The male of this species 
is about twenty inches in length, the female 
twenty-three. The colors are much like those of 
the Red-shouldered, except that it does not have 
the red shoulders; but it does have a chestnut- 
red tail, which has determined its name. The 
back is mottled brown and white, the under 
parts are whitish with brown streaks, and there 
is a broken band of the same color across the 
belly. 

It ranges practically over the same region, and 
its feeding and nesting habits are similar to those 
of the last variety. Its cry, however, is unlike 
and quite characteristic, a shrill, long-drawn 
note which has been likened to the sound of 
escaping steam. They are resident throughout 
the greater portion of their summer range. 

Sparrow Hawk. Of our common Hawks this 
is the smallest and the most numerous. The male 
and female are of about the same size, ten inches 
in length. The crown is bluish-gray and there 
are white cheeks, with black stripes before and 
behind. The wings are slaty blue, barred with 
black. The rump, back and tail are dark brown 
with bars of chestnut. The under parts are 
buffy spotted with black. With the female the 
under parts are heavily streaked with darker 
buff. The sharply curved bill is slate colored, 
and the eyes are red. This combination of color 
together with the rather sprightly bearing of 
this little Hawk makes him, in appearance at 
least, a very attractive bird. 

You will often see the Sparrow Hawk perched 
on an old stub or telephone post on the lookout 







- dL 




^j? ~\ 


^k^ 


1 


1 b/l H e ? 



SPARROW HAWK 



HAWKS AND OWLS 227 

for his rations, various insects, mice, toads, 
frogs, spiders and rarely, small birds. Often, 
too, he is seen hovering on rapidly vibrating 
wings over the field, then dropping into the 
grass for grasshopper or mouse his keen eye has 
detected. His prey secured, he seeks his perch 
again, where his meal may be enjoyed. His 
flight call, "kitty, kitty, kitty," has given him 
the name in some localities of the Killy Hawk. 
While the name Sparrow Hawk is not deserved 
in all cases, yet they do destroy at times many of 
the smaller defenceless songsters. 

The Sparrow Hawk ranges in summer north- 
ward into Canada, and winters south of New 
York. The nest is usually built in a hollow tree, 
or in the abandoned hole of a Woodpecker. 
The four or five brown-spotted eggs are laid in 
early May. 

Pigeon Hawk. This Hawk derives its name 
from its likeness, both when perched and in 
flight, to the Wild Pigeon. Its dress is not so 
attractive as that of the Sparrow Hawk, and it 
is larger, being about a foot in length. Since 
their nesting range is north of the United States, 
they are known in the Eastern States only 
as migrants. They winter from the Southern 
States to South America. In the spring they are 
seen in migration toward the end of April and 
in early May, and are again in evidence during 
September and October. 

With the Pigeon Hawk the upper parts are 
slaty blue; the under parts vary from light to 
dark buff, splashed with brown. There is a col- 
lar of rusty brown about the neck, the tail has 



228 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

several distinct white bars and a white tip. 
They nest in hollow trees and sometimes in in- 
accessible cliffs. They are usually found in small 
growth or in the open country and are less shy 
than any Hawk we have studied. Their food is 
like that of the Killy, and they destroy small birds. 

Broad-winged Hawk. This is another mem- 
ber of the Hawk family that may be regarded as 
especially beneficial to man, because of the 
large number of pests it destroys in the shape of 
mice, shrews, moles, grasshoppers, squirrels, 
etc. Many times in the forest where it is usually 
found, I have mistaken its peculiar cry for one 
of the notes of the Wood Pewee, a rather plain- 
tive "kii-e-e-e. " This Hawk will perch for a long 
time on an old stub by the side of pond or stream 
watching for its prey; again for hours at a time 
it will be seen sailing in broad circles high above 
its forest home. They are usually quite tame 
and in their woodland retreats may be seen 
close at hand. The nest, usually placed high in 
a tree, is made of sticks, bark and leaves. The 
eggs, three or four in number, are white, spotted 
with lavender and various shades of brown. 
They range in summer throughout eastern 
North America to New Brunswick, wintering 
from the Southern States southward. 

The Broad-winged Hawk is about sixteen 
inches long. The upper parts are grayish-brown 
margined with buff. There are two bars on the 
tail, which has a whitish tip. The under parts 
are whitish, heavily marked with cross stripes 
of brown. The three outer primaries are notched 
and are without the buff margins. 



HAWKS AND OWLS 229 

Fish Hawk. The food habits of this bird have 
determined its name, for it eats nothing but 
fish, and, in consequence, has become an expert 
fisher. It is a most thrilling sight to see one of 
these birds when slowly flying high above the 
water suddenly stop and hang for a moment on 
rapidly moving wing, then like a rock plunge 
straight down, strike the water with a great 
splash, seize the unsuspecting fish in its long, 
curved claws, and slowly rising with the wriggling 
prey tightly clasped, move away to some con- 
venient stub where the meal may be enjoyed 
without interruption. It is not always success- 
ful, and has to plunge again and again before 
securing its prey, but it is persistent, and knows 
no other method of obtaining its food supply. 

The Fish Hawk, or Osprey as it is often called, 
is a large bird, measuring two feet in length and 
the wing spread is often nearly or quite five feet. 
The back is dark brown, almost black, and there 
is much white on the head and upper neck; the 
throat and breast are pure white with grayish- 
brown markings; the wings are somewhat 
sprinkled with grayish-white and there are dim 
bands of the same color across the tail. The 
male has the suggestion of a crown. 

Ospreys are poor architects. They usually 
build, in a tall tree or on some inaccessible cliff, 
a rough nest of sticks with little lining to pro- 
tect the young birds. They will return to the 
same nest year after year, adding to the struc- 
ture until it is a great heap. Where these birds 
are carefully protected, as on Gardiner's Island, 
they nest on the shore, sometimes in colonies 



230 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

of several pairs. The eggs, two to four in num- 
ber, vary much in color. Sometimes they are 
plain, dull white, again they are almost wholly 
dark brown. Usually they are creamy buff, 
spotted with dark brown. This Hawk ranges 
in summer from Florida to Labrador, and win- 
ters from the Carolinas to South America. 



Part II 
OWLS 

"If a prisoner he be in the broad daylight, 
He is lord in the dark greenwood! " 

— Proctor. 

While Hawks are daylight hunters, Owls, for 
the most part, are prowlers of the dark. When 
the shades of night fall and most of the inhab- 
itants of bird land are settling down for the 
night, Owls waken from their day dreams, and, 
as the darkness deepens, begin to look about 
for their daily rations. Owing to the peculiar 
structure of the eye, Owls see much better by 
night than by day; in fact, they seem nearly 
blind in the full light of the sun, while in the 
dark they can make their way even in the forest 
and locate their prey seemingly with the great- 
est ease. In the gloom which pervades thick 
evergreen woods even at midday they can see 
to fly about, but are much more active at night. 
Another peculiarity of structure renders it im- 
possible for them to roll their eyes in the sockets, 




SCREECH o\VL 



HAWKS AND OWLS 231 

so they have to turn the head when changing 
the direction of sight. 

Owls, too, are very well equipped for hunting. 
Although they cannot dart upon their victims 
as swiftly as the Hawks, the soft and fluffy 
feathers render their flight quite noiseless, and 
they require less speed as their prey is usually 
asleep. The strong talons are excellent hooks for 
holding their victims, which, unless too large, 
are swallowed whole. The food of the various 
species is much the same, consisting of small 
mammals, mice, shrews, squirrels, rabbits and 
sometimes birds. Only rarely do the larger 
Owls visit the farmyard, so that poultry plays 
a small part in their menu. They are more ben- 
eficial to the farmer than are the Hawks, and, 
consequently, there is even less reason for their 
destruction. They are, for the most part, dwel- 
lers of the deep woods, where the browns and 
grays of their plumage aid them in concealment. 
The eggs of all varieties are white. Of the nearly 
two hundred species known throughout the 
world about twenty are found in the United 
States, and eight or nine are common in the 
Eastern States. 

Screech Owl. This small Owl, the most com- 
mon of the family, is well known from the weird, 
unearthly cry which startles not a little one who 
is unfamiliar with it. During July and August, 
after the young are reared, their cry is often 
heard in the open country, for they frequently 
build their nests in outbuildings of the farm, or 
in a hollow tree in the orchard. Often in the 
daytime one will see this Owl sitting on some 



232 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

low perch, blinking in the sun as though much 
bewildered. Not long since, I approached one 
within arm's length as he sat on a low tree, and 
was about to seize him when he took sudden 
flight. 

Among Screech Owls there is a wide difference 
in coloring not easy to explain. Some are gray; 
others in the same brood may be distinctly 
brown. The back is minutely streaked and 
spotted with gray or reddish-brown and black. 
The under parts are grayish, streaked with 
brown and black. There are two tufts of dark 
feathers, like ears, and the large eyes are yellow. 
They are about ten inches long. They range 
over the Eastern States, rarely as far north as 
Maine, and are resident throughout. They de- 
stroy many mice, grasshoppers, crickets, beetles 
and other insects. 

Saw-whet Owls. This Owl also derives its 
name from its peculiar cry which much re- 
sembles the sounds made in filing a saw. It is 
the smallest of our common Owls, only eight 
inches in length. It is a dweller of the woods, 
with a more northern range than the Screech 
Owl, and it moves southward in the winter, in 
search of food, but is not regarded as a migrant. 
I have often found them about deserted logging- 
camps in the woods of Maine, where they are 
common in summer. 

The Saw-whet Owl's upper parts are cinna- 
mon-brown, with the head, back and tail 
streaked and spotted with white. The under 
parts are white streaked with brown. The feet 
and legs are covered with brownish- white 




BARRED OWL 



HAWKS AND OWLS 233 

feathers. The eyes are yellow and there are no 
ear tufts. They usually nest in hollow trees, a 
deserted Woodpecker hole being a favorite 
place. Their food consists of mice and other 
rodents, insects of various kinds, and small birds. 

Barred Owl. A common resident in wooded 
regions is the Barred, or Hoot Owl, a name 
which arises from his cry, which comes at night 
from his forest retreat. " Whoo-whoo; whoo-whoo; 
whoo-whoo-ah^ " he calls, often repeating the cry 
at intervals through the night. In my boyhood 
the belief was that the call of the Hoot Owl be- 
tokened rain, but I am not at all sure that he is 
a safe prognosticator of the weather. Many a 
time in the darkest nights we heard this weird 
interrogation from the dark woods on Sailor's 
Island, and no doubt it was more distinctly 
audible in the calm before a storm. 

This is a good-sized bird, twenty inches in 
length. The upper parts are grayish brown. 
The fine bars of black and dark brown which 
are seen on the back, neck, rump, tail and 
breast give him the name Barred Owl. The sides 
and belly are broadly streaked with brown and 
the legs and feet are feathered to the toes. 
There are no ear tufts and the eyes are black, in 
this particular differing from all other members 
of the family. The large, hooked bill is ivory- 
white. Their home is usually in a hollow tree, 
or the abandoned nest of Hawk or Crow. They 
feed upon poultry, game-birds, mice, frogs, 
lizards, insects, etc. This Owl ranges over 
eastern North America as far north as New- 
foundland and is a permanent resident, except 
in the extreme northern portion. 



234 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

Long-eared Owl. In size this Owl is midway 
between the Screech Owl and the Barred, being 
about fifteen inches long. The best field mark 
is the long tufts, or ears, of black bordered by- 
white or bufiy. The upper parts are dusky 
mottled with white and buff. The tail has sev- 
eral cross bars of dark brown. The under parts 
are white and buff, streaked and barred with 
brown. 

This Owl, too, is a dweller in the dense ever- 
green woods and it is said hunts only at night. 
In the daytime it sits quietly in some thicket 
and may be approached close enough to have 
its picture taken. It usually lays its eggs in an 
old nest of Hawk, Crow or squirrel. They are 
permanent residents as far north as Nova Scotia, 
but are not common in the northern part of this 
region. 

Short-eared Owl. This Owl is a daylight hun- 
ter and a resident of marsh and meadow. He 
remains so still in his grassy retreat that you 
almost step on him before he stirs. When in 
quest of food he courses back and forth over the 
meadows in search of mice of which he is very 
fond. The nest of grasses is built on the ground. 

They vary in length from fourteen to seven- 
teen inches. The back, wings, head, neck and 
tail are mottled black, brown and gray. The 
white under parts are streaked with brown. 
There are two small ear tufts of dark, edged with 
white. They are found throughout North Amer- 
ica, breeding north of Virginia. 

Great Gray Owl. This very large Owl lives 
north of the United States and comes down to 



HAWKS AND OWLS 235 

us occasionally in winter. It is a rare bird and 
is growing scarcer. It is twenty-seven inches 
long. The upper parts are dark brown mottled 
with white; the under parts white, streaked on 
the breast and belly with brown. 

Snowy Owl. The Snowy Owl is a northern 
dweller, nesting from Labrador northward, and 
coming to the United States only in winter, 
when the food supply there is lessened by the 
cold and deep snows. During some winters the 
flight is numerous; at other times there are only 
stragglers. This Owl is a daylight hunter, and 
his habits are not unlike those of some Hawks. 
From a commanding perch he will swoop down 
upon a ground-dwelling creature, luckless rab- 
bit, squirrel or weasel that chances under his 
gleaming eyes; or boldly he will launch out to 
overhaul Grouse, Pigeon, or other bird. Their 
prowess as hunters of hares has given them in 
Sweden the name Harfang or Harecatcher. 

During these winter invasions they are even 
more plentiful on the seashore than inland, for 
they are skillful fishermen. Swooping down from 
a perch that overhangs the water, this fisher, 
like the Osprey, grips the fish in his strong claws, 
then eats it at leisure on some near-by stub. 

The Snowy Owl is more than two feet long. 
Like all dwellers of the far North, the prevailing 
tone is white. There are bars of brown larger 
and more numerous on the female and young. 
Their feet and legs are covered with thick, warm 
feathers, excellent protection against extreme 
cold. 



Chapter XV 
THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 

"Now is the high tide of the year, 



Its arms outstretched, the druid wood 
Waits with its benedicite." 

— Lowell. 



Part I 

For the greater part of June I have been liv- 
ing in a snug cabin built of peeled spruce logs 
and roofed with splits of cedar, one of a dozen 
similarly constructed, set in a small clearing in 
the heart of the forest. To the north and south, 
ten miles or more in either direction, stretches 
away a little valley, well protected to the east and 
west by the massive bulk of mountains. 

Some four miles to the northwest of my cabin 
rises the towering form of Mt. Baker. Its lower 
slopes are clad in the cheerful green of beech and 
maple, birch and poplar, but the steep sides 
and summit display the more somber shades of 
spruce and fir. On the hither side from crest to 
base extends a deep scar with surface torn and 
barren, except for straggling ricks of green 
bushes, Nature's attempt to hide the wound. 
Years ago an avalanche swept away trees and 
earth, and, gaining momentum as it plunged 
downward, ploughed deep into the mountain 

236 





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THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 237 

side, even laying bare the granite ribs. The 
forces of Nature here displayed their might, and 
centuries will scarcely repair the damage done 
in a moment. 

When the air is clear the slide seems near at 
hand and every detail of its ragged face is seen 
distinctly; but when the mists gather, and at 
twilight, it appears indistinct and far away as 
though receding in the uncertain light, a fitting 
playground, you would say, for the giant spirits 
with which the Indians ' in the old days were 
wont to people these lonely mountains. 

To the left of Baker and reaching well around 
into the west rises the lesser height of Big Ele- 
phant, its name suggested by the peculiar out- 
line of the long summit. Just below appear the 
rugged forms of the Indians, Big and Little, with 
Chairback well to the south. The entire range 
is thickly clad with coniferous trees, forming a 
ponderous wall of sheltering green. To the east 
the valley is also protected by a long range, low 
to the south but rising higher and higher in each 
succeeding peak until in the northeast it cul- 
minates in the lofty crest of White Cap, a grand 
and symmetrical mountain, its gracefully slop- 
ing sides surmounted by a shining rock mass 
which gives its name. 

Through the valley thus guarded, in winding 
course, flows a small river, at the nearest point 
scarcely a hundred yards distant from the clear- 
ing. This stream varies much in character. 
For long stretches the current moves sluggishly, 
with deep pools here and there, dark and myste- 
rious from the dense shade of the overhanging 



238 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

forest; again it hurries down some long incline, 
rippling and gurgling good-naturedly over its 
pebble-strewn bed; then gathering itself, it 
plunges grandly downward, roaring and seeth- 
ing in its haste. This stream has been fittingly 
named the Pleasant River. 

Stretching away on all sides is the vast forest 
threaded by numerous trails, some made by 
man in his restless search for its wily denizens, 
others by the wild folk themselves in the count- 
less years since first it became their abode. 
Moose and deer, bear and lynx range its shel- 
tering depths, and many smaller animals here 
find that degree of solitude which they desire 
in a permanent abiding place. 

At times these wild folk from the thickets 
look out upon us, curious as to the character of 
the strange beings who dare to invade their 
haunts. Often when twilight steals over the 
forest in the little clearing is heard the blowing 
of a startled deer, as he catches the scent of 
smoke from the smudge fires quite necessary at 
this season of the year, if one is to enjoy by day 
or night even a partial relief from the attack 
of myriads of insects. One evening as darkness 
was falling a moose stalked stolidly out of the 
woods, and, passing between the cabins, halted 
for a moment in the garden, evidently consider- 
ing the prospects for future feasts, then silently 
passed into the gloom again. Now and then a 
hedgehog in broad day pays us a visit, slowly 
and ponderously working his way along the 
trail; and he, too, vanishes into the forest. 
From the many tracks seen in the soft earth, 



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PLEASANT RIVER 



THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 239 

other of the wild folk look out upon us, but their 
instinctive wariness keeps them within the shel- 
ter of the thicket. 

Five minutes' walk from the clearing is a small 
pond, a dozen acres or so in extent, its low 
shores bordered with a rank growth of reeds and 
sedge-grass. This is known as First Pond and in 
summer is a favorite haunt of deer that seek 
relief in the cool water from the attack of flies 
and gnats while feeding upon the lush grasses 
and tender twigs along its shores. 

Just beyond First Pond, and reached by a 
trail leading over a spruce ridge, is another pond 
much larger but very shallow throughout the 
greater part of its extent. This is known as 
Second Pond and is a favorite feeding ground 
for moose. So secluded is it that during all hours 
of the day they venture to wade far out, greedily 
tearing from the bottom the great roots of the 
yellow lily that there grows in profusion. The 
waters of both ponds and the river are inhabited 
by many trout which are eagerly sought by 
such disciples of the rod as make their way to 
this sylvan retreat. 

Here, too, dwell many feathered folk — perma- 
nent residents accustomed to a life remote from 
the regular haunts of men, and summer vis- 
itors, many of whom have journeyed from the 
far distant tropics in search of a secluded nest- 
ing ground. On my arrival in early June I was 
much impressed by the great number of birds, 
and also by the many strangers of which I had 
caught but a fleeting glimpse, or had not seen 
at all in my observation during the migration 



240 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

at my home two hundred miles south. Evidently 
they had slipped by unseen at night, or in the 
shelter of the woods. 

Straggling representatives of several familiar 
varieties of the open country are here, but some 
of them seem much changed and, in a way, out of 
place so far in the deep forest. Our old friend, 
the Robin, is about, but he has lost much of the 
vivacity and cheerfulness which characterize 
him in the open country. A pair is nesting in 
a small fir within ten feet of my cabin, and in 
the early morning I hear them running on the 
roof just above my head. But they are strangely 
silent and even when I approach the nest their 
protests are feeble and half-hearted. Not once 
have I heard their jolly rain song. Occasionally 
they gather on the green before the door for a 
brief frolic, but there is a lacking evidence of 
that deep sense of contentment which one usu- 
ally observes in this domestic bird during the 
nesting season. 

A pair of Bluebirds has chosen a deserted 
Woodpecker's hole not far away and they, too, 
seem to be depressed by the gloom of the wil- 
derness. Only rarely do I hear a note from this 
usually joyous singer, the plaintive "far-a-zuay, 
far-a-way" that is oftener heard in the autumn. 
A solitary pair of Song Sparrows is nesting in 
the clearing, but I have not been able to exactly 
locate their home. Very rarely do I hear their 
song, and then it is poorly executed, spiritless, 
and cut short several notes. They seem to 
have lost the sublime courage and light-hearted- 
ness which we are accustomed to associate with 



THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 241 

these faithful friends of man, and I fear that 
even their great optimism is here sadly shaken. 

In a little house set at the end of a stout pole 
erected on the ridge of the log barn, Tree Swal- 
lows are rearing their young, and they appear 
very happy and quite at home in these sur- 
roundings. Their ancestors not many genera- 
tions ago were forest dwellers, nesting in hollow 
trees; so perhaps their racial love for solitude 
has not become wholly extinct, even though 
they are glad to accept the proffer of so cozy a 
home. Every minute of the day they appear to 
be seeking food for their nestlings, their cheery 
low-voiced warbles expressing deep domestic 
joy. I see so many of these birds about the 
woods that I am sure they still resort to their 
primitive nesting places, although I have not 
been able to find them. 

Many Chimney Swifts dart merrily about, 
now over the forest, now skimming the surface 
of pond and river, their rapidly uttered twitters 
giving no suggestion of depressed spirits, al- 
though here no wide-mouthed chimneys invite 
them to make a home in their sooty depths. 

To be sure, in several unoccupied cabins they 
have invaded the stovepipes which serve in lieu 
of chimneys, but their nest building efforts 
there soon come to naught, as they are unable 
to securely fasten the material to the smooth, 
curved surface of the iron pipe. In consequence, 
after a hard rain the nests will be found in the 
little air-tight stoves. These birds, too, resort 
to hollow trees, and it is not an unusual sight 
to see them rising in a black line from the depths 



242 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

of some decaying monarch which evidently 
affords a secure nesting place for many pairs of 
these "denizens of the dark. " 

Several varieties that I have observed farther 
south as rather silent, restless travelers during 
migration here seem to have found the environ- 
ment which develops the gayer side of their 
natures, for they have become the merriest 
minstrels, enlivening the long summer day with 
happy song. Purple Finches that I know in the 
open country for the most part as stragglers 
here display new phases of character, being 
both friendly and sociable. 

The males are seen in bands roaming about 
the edges of the clearing, a common rendezvous 
being the tops of the rock maples where they 
greedily feed upon the kernels of the queer, 
wing-shaped seeds. Keen hunger well satisfied, 
they burst forth in rollicking song, sometimes 
in a series of solos, again in a chorus which is 
charming beyond the possibilities of description. 
The wonderful volume and richness of their care- 
lessly flowing warbles are quite new to me. 
And while I have long regarded them as among 
our most delightful singers, here they far excel 
in quality of note and vivacity of execution 
their usual exquisite song; and frequently I 
hear several additional notes quite unknown to 
me. The post-prandial concert over, away they 
go to the woods and soon their sparrow-like 
mates are seen silently foraging. They nest in 
the firs and spruces which fringe the clearing 
and are our constant and much admired enter- 
tainers. 



THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 243 

Many dapper little Chipping Sparrows are 
about the clearing, very busy just now with 
their domestic affairs. They must be put to 
some trouble to find horsehair enough to line 
their numerous nests, for there are but two 
horses here and most of their time is spent on 
the tote-road to and from the settlement. Per- 
haps they seek the same source of supply as did 
the Junco whose ground-built nest was dis- 
covered by accident. 

One day while searching for a Warbler whose 
song puzzled me, a Junco came from the near-by 
thicket, bearing in her bill a strange-looking bur- 
den, a wisp of something which projected on 
either side like the feelers of a cat, having much 
the appearance of snow-white silk floss. Wholly 
devoid of fear, she lighted in a small fir within 
arm's length, then from limb to limb descending 
to the ground, disappeared in the thick ferns. 
In a few moments she flew away and a brief 
search revealed a well-built, cup-like nest lined 
with crinkly white hair from a deer's tail! The 
effect of this dainty lining against the dark 
material of the nest was very odd, you may be 
sure. Was not this an excellent illustration of 
the versatility of these little friends of ours in 
adapting the objects at hand to their needs? 

Each daily visit to the nest revealed an addi- 
tional egg until there were four, pure white, 
thickly sprinkled with tiny brown spots. The 
absolute silence of the bird as I approached the 
nest seemed quite unusual. Not once when dis- 
turbed did she utter a note, either of alarm or 
curiosity, but sat quite still until my hand was 



244 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

almost upon her. Then she slipped silently into 
the low limbs of her roof tree, watching me 
closely but trustfully, as though convinced that 
my visit was prompted by friendly interest 
rather than ill-will. At all hours of the day, on 
every hand, are heard the happy trills and 
warbles of the Juncos, unmistakable signs of 
contented hearts filled with the joy of life. 

There are about the clearing three varieties 
of the Thrush family besides the Robin, all sol- 
itary and much more retiring in their habits than 
when seen during migration. The wonderful 
song of the Veery and the scarcely less charming 
performance of the Olive-backed are heard dur- 
ing all hours of the day, floating softly out from 
the dense shade of the fir thickets, where the 
gloom of twilight always prevails. 

If one invades the dark depths to call upon 
these sober-clad recluses, he is greeted by rather 
harsh call notes, and catches a glimpse of shad- 
owy forms flitting down the dusky aisles in the 
half light; and silence reigns for a long time. 
But if he is able to withstand the attack of 
hosts of mosquitoes and black flies, and waits 
patiently and very quietly, the sweet strains 
will be taken up again, and so near at hand that 
there will be heard certain preliminary under- 
tones, not audible except at close range. Hear- 
ing no sound of the Hermit for the first ten days 
of my sojourn, I concluded that he had not 
penetrated so far inland; but at sunset one 
evening while fishing in Second Pond his song 
came floating out to me, perfectly voiced, divine, 
entrancing. After that I was more content in my 
forest haven. 



THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 245 

Were I asked what woodland dweller seen 
during my stay here seems happiest, I should 
name the male White-throat. Perched on the 
topmost twig of a fir, the lower branches of 
which shelter his mate as she patiently sits on the 
five bluish-white, brown-speckled eggs, he seems 
the very embodiment of earthly bliss. His abid- 
ing faith in the happy outcome of his mate's 
tender care has given a full rich tone to his song 
that is quite a surprise to me. Much as I have 
admired the plaintively sweet song of this bird 
during migration, I was quite unprepared for 
this delicious performance of the nesting season. 
So sweetly confiding and trustful are his notes 
that one feels them the frank expression of the 
deepest sentiments of the heart. To my mind 
there are few sweeter utterances in all bird land 
than the nuptial song of the White-throat. 

They are all about the clearing and along the 
trails where bordered with fir and spruce. 
Their call notes, the metallic "chink" and a 
shrill "pit" are very familiar sounds as I move 
about, but they show no sign of fear, often per- 
mitting me to pass within arm's length of them. 
They are among the most admired and lovable 
members of the wilderness chorus. 

But even in this paradise of song all sounds 
do not express harmony. In truth there is one 
discordant operator in a coat of shiny black, a 
color in which, as you have noted, are clad 
many of the mischief-makers of the bird world. 
Soon after my arrival there were heard in the 
alders bordering the outlet to First Pond, reedy 
call notes and a poor imitation of the ringing 



246 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

"hard-a-lee" of the Red-wing. Following up 
these sounds I traced them to a nesting colony 
of Rusty Blackbirds, a species whose northward 
passage I had noted in late April. 

The nests of twigs and coarse grass, rather 
poorly constructed, were placed in fir and cedar 
trees along the banks of the stream, some near 
the ground, others twenty feet or more above it. 
The fledglings were nearly grown, and rarely 
have I experienced a more strenuous or per- 
sistent attack of parent bird whose domestic 
affairs I have looked into. A few days later when 
the young were making their first attempts at 
flying I came upon them again on the up-river 
trail, and so violent was the attack of the old 
birds that for a time I thought I should have 
to seek some weapon of defence. Right at my 
face they darted, uttering very harsh and disa- 
greeable sounds. Following me for a long dis- 
tance, they finally settled in the treetops where 
they could still watch my movements. 

Afterward whenever I set out in that direc- 
tion, almost before leaving the clearing, the 
alarm notes of these black disturbers of the 
peace were heard, and soon a small band came 
and followed me for a quarter of a mile along the 
trail, uttering such a jargon as to completely 
drown all other bird notes. Then, perched on the 
dead trees, for half an hour they kept up their 
excited chatter. 

One day, quite out of patience with their 
noisy demonstrations, I sat down and deliber- 
ately waited to see what they would do about it. 
On near-by stubs, all the while displaying their 



THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 247 

ill temper, they sat so long that my patience 
was exhausted. Occasionally one would snap 
at a passing insect, and once a male made a 
clumsy effort at a dragon fly but was unsuccess- 
ful. At the end of an hour I left them, but their 
noise did not cease until after I entered the clear- 
ing on the return to my cabin. 

There is little about these birds at any time 
that is attractive, either in the coal-black dress 
of the male, their yellow eyes, or hateful alarm 
notes. The fine slate-color of the female, how- 
ever, is rather handsome and did she display 
more amiability she would not be wholly objec- 
tionable as a neighbor. The name arises from 
the dingy tone their plumage assumes after the 
breeding season is over. 

Toward the end of June the Rusty Blackbirds 
developed a novel and interesting habit, that of 
walking about on the pads of the yellow lilies 
which cover much of the surface of First Pond. 
Dry shod they demurely move about on this 
carpet of glossy green, now and again spreading 
their wings for a long jump from pad to pad, 
busily feeding upon the multitude of gnats and 
flies which infest the blossoms. At a distance 
they have all the appearance of walking on the 
water. Judging from the rapidity of their feed- 
ing here, they have little need to look elsewhere 
for their daily rations. This no doubt accounts 
for the recent gathering of the nearly grown 
young in the alder thickets which border the 
pond to the southeast, a locality very conven- 
ient to this bountiful food supply. 



248 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 



Part II 

" I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear; but now mine eye 
seeth thee."— Old Testament. 

If with diligence and patience you have long 
searched for something upon the finding of 
which your heart has been firmly set, or, if 
striving earnestly to accomplish a certain result 
you have at times almost succeeded, only to 
taste the bitterness of defeat again and again, 
and at last most unexpectedly and without 
effort upon your part have suddenly reached 
the goal of your desires, then will you realize 
something of the deep sense of victory which 
came to me at an early hour on a recent morning. 

An earnest wish to hear the wonderful nest- 
ing song of the Winter Wren has possessed me 
for many years. In fact this desire had its in- 
ception one evening some twenty years ago 
when a friend, a trained naturalist and ardent 
bird lover, in words aglow with the delight of 
the recent experience, described his impressions 
of the lay of this woodland sprite. He related 
how, while fishing a remote stream in the north 
woods, there came from the thicket to his atten- 
tive ear notes so entrancing, so much in keeping 
with the wildness of the spot that, dropping 
his rod, he followed its elusive source in and out 
through the dense growth, losing all sense of 
direction but gaining a notable victory in iden- 
tifying the singer. He declared this song unex- 
celled in variety of notes among our Northern 
birds. 



THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 249 

On the evening of my arrival here, among the 
many songs that greeted me was one that in- 
stantly attracted my attention as being un- 
familiar, remarkable for the variety of its notes. 
It was so unlike all the utterances of the nu- 
merous Warblers about the clearing that an in- 
tense desire seized me to immediately identify 
this woodland wonder. Such was the beginning 
of a search that lasted many days. 

In the attempt to identify this bird, daily 
trips were made, sometimes covering several 
miles, and never did I return without having 
heard the song, but the singer eluded my sight. 
Yet they were numerous, and at times one sang 
just back of my cabin; but when I entered the 
thicket he at once withdrew, slowly retreating 
as I advanced until after an hour's tramp in the 
tangled maze, I gave up the quest and sat down 
with the hope that he would return within 
range of my vision. He returned, but by another 
route, and again I was baffled. 

One day while fishing the river, the elusive 
melody came from the far shore and I thought 
that this time he could not possibly escape me, 
for the mountain rose almost sheer from the 
river bank. Quickly wading the stream I ap- 
proached the spot whence the sound had issued, 
and after a moment's silence, from far up the 
steep cliff floated down the tantalizing song. 
Along the trail, by the pond site, up river and 
down, in short, wherever there is a tangle of 
cedar, mountain ash, and swamp maple, I 
heard him, but so successfully did he escape my 
eager search that not even a glimpse of him did 



250 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

I get; and at times I almost came to believe 
him a sprite, a voice without material form. 

Then most unexpectedly, and without effort, 
I came upon him. Soon after sunrise one morn- 
ing, while paying my daily visit to a mineral 
spring that bubbles out of the river bank just 
below the dam, I heard the song and my heart 
fairly leaped at the prospect of seeing the singer, 
for it seemed impossible for him to escape me 
here. As I breathlessly waited a moment, there 
came into view, hopping along a projecting 
limb with a peculiar bobbing motion, a midget 
in brown, with tail so erect that there was no 
mistaking him. 

He was the Winter Wren, the dainty minstrel 
I had so long sought. For a moment he sang for 
me in plain sight, then flew across the stream. 
But my search was over and the reward was 
equal to the protracted effort I had put forth, 
absolute knowledge gained where there had been 
so much uncertainty, and so I added a new and 
highly prized acquaintance to my list of bird 
friends. 

But how shall I describe his marvelous song, 
it is so different from all others! There is a 
quality about it, a certain spirit of the wild, that 
suggests the song of the Ruby-crowned Kinglet, 
but, after all, the resemblance is slight. The 
song of the Winter Wren is like a cascade of pure 
liquid notes gurgling and tumbling forth as 
though the tiny mite, in utter abandon, were 
intoxicated with the ecstasy of his own melody. 
In the variety of the notes the song is to me incom- 
parable. And from such a midget ! One old guide 



THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 251 

who knows him well calls him the " crazy bird." 
North of the clearing, and traversed by the 
trail to First Pond, is a tract a score or more 
acres in extent, where several years ago fire 
killed the timber. A thick second growth of 
birch, wild cherry, alder, etc., has sprung up, 
above which rise stark and bare many stubs, 
relics of the old forest. Here the Woodpeckers 
find favorable feeding and nesting ground, and 
also many followers of this family of wood cut- 
ters who take advantage of the generosity of 
such skilled workmen. Not only do the Hairy, 
Downy and Flicker nest here, but Chickadees, 
Nuthatches and Bluebirds have taken posses- 
sion of the well-cut holes, evidently finding 
them quite suited to their needs. 

Very soon after arriving here my attention 
was attracted by a faint chorus of squeaks 
coming from the direction of a dead birch on the 
edge of the clearing. A brief search revealed a 
clean-cut hole, some forty feet from the ground, 
from which issued the sounds. Soon with a 
shrill "perk, perk," the father of the family, a 
Hairy Woodpecker, came bounding up with 
beak well laden with choice grubs, paused for an 
instant just beneath the hole to look at me, then 
with a note of reassurance to his waiting brood, 
disappeared into the hole. At his entrance the 
faint cries instantly developed into hungry calls. 
Soon out he came and, with a farewell "perk," 
disappeared into the forest. Almost immediately 
came the female, also with a goodly bunch of 
grubs, and again the cries increased to a din 
while she fed the eager nestlings. 



252 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

Rarely have I seen among birds greater evi- 
dence of domestic happiness. Often while one 
is feeding the fledglings, the other will arrive 
and await on a neighboring limb his turn in 
this oft-repeated process. Then are heard low 
chuckles, soft and affectionate, language which 
I have never before discovered in the Wood- 
pecker vocabulary. For some time they seem to 
talk over their household affairs in tones of 
great amiability, perhaps discussing the remark- 
able growth of their interesting youngsters, the 
naming of the different members, when their 
education shall begin, and various other im- 
portant affairs. Then away they go to take up 
the food problem again. 

After observing their goings and comings for 
several days I have concluded that the amount 
of food required by a family of young Hairies 
is nothing short of marvelous. On an average, 
one of the parents returns every five minutes, 
and I see them plying back and forth during all 
the hours of daylight. The loud "rat-a-tat-tat" 
of one or both is nearly always audible in the 
clearing, and the fledglings must be growing 
rapidly. 

In a few days black and white heads appeared 
in the doorway and the approach of a parent 
was the signal for an eager outstretching of 
necks. Their voices grew in volume with their 
bodies and the faint squeaks became a jargon 
of hungry shrieks. 

Anxiously I awaited the day when the young 
would leave their sheltering roof trees for their 
first instructions in flying, tree clinging, wood 



THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 253 

cutting, and the many important matters that 
go to make up Woodpecker education. 

But alas for my expectations! Their departure 
was by night, when quietly the whole brood 
slipped into the forest, and not even a glimpse of 
the youngsters have I had, although the old 
birds are still seen about the clearing. 

The father of this family seems to be some- 
thing of a humorist In the early morning he 
often mounts to the roof of a cabin and beats a 
lively tattoo on the dry splits which project a 
foot or more above the ridge. The reverbera- 
tions of the resonant wood echo about the clear- 
ing, to the great annoyance of the sleepy folk. 
This can hardly be a search for grubs, since 
the splits are dry as bone and without bark. 
He seems to greatly enjoy the joke, for between 
the rolls he halts for a moment, chuckles to 
himself, then repeats the tattoo. 

One day while sitting in the shade of a cabin 
veranda he came to one of the cedar posts within 
six feet of me and although his bill seemed stuffed 
full of grubs and insects he carefully inspected 
the loose bark for trace of another. The wonder 
was how he could drill for more when already 
his bill was so well filled; but, not finding one, 
he flew away and my curiosity was then unsatis- 
fied. A few days later he lit on a dead spruce 
just above my head, deposited his load of bugs 
in a deep crevice of the bark, quickly drilled out 
a borer gathered up his cached food and hur- 
ried home with his fine load. Never have I 
watched a busier pair of birds, and were I to 
select a new emblem to represent industry, I 



254 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

would choose the Hairy Woodpecker when car- 
ing for the brood rather than the honey bee. 

In my excursions about the wood I have been 
surprised at the number of Woodpecker families 
discovered, their holes being usually located by 
the hungry cries of the young. Homes of 
Flickers, Downies, Hairies, American Three- 
toed Woodpeckers and Sapsuckers have been 
found, all with the entrance facing the east. 
May not this location of the front door be due 
to a desire to catch the first ray of light as morn- 
ing breaks in the forest I 

Among the dead trunks surrounding an iso- 
lated pond, I heard the loud blows and startling 
cries of the "Cock of the Woods"; but as the 
day was far advanced and the trail home a long 
one it was not deemed wise to hunt his nest. 
The sight of this bird is always for me an event 
in any bird-hunting day. Although once com- 
mon, it is now to be considered as rare, except 
in the deepest forest. 

Many other birds besides the Woodpeckers 
find conditions in the old stub lot greatly to their 
liking, the Flycatchers in particular being much 
in evidence. The shrill interrogatory of the 
Crested is often heard. For an hour after day- 
break each morning his persistent cry is very 
prominent in the bird chorus. This habit has 
occasioned dark threats to be made against this 
unseemly disturber, as he is regarded by the 
sleepy folk, threats even involving his destruc- 
tion unless he reforms forthwith. From his 
lookout on the top of some prominent stub the 
Olive-sided Flycatcher calmly surveys the scene 



THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 255 

and between his frequent nycatching forays 
pipes his mellow "pu-pit, pu-pit, pu-pit," with 
something of the tone quality heard in the more 
attractive utterance of his cousin, the Wood 
Pewee. 

Quite in contrast to the air of self-possession 
which characterizes the Olive-sided is the ner- 
vous, excitable manner of the Sebec, a bird that 
is very numerous here. There is little about 
these least of the Flycatchers that attracts one, 
either in note or habit. Of late along the river 
bank have been heard the calls of the Alder Fly- 
catcher. On a low perch he utters a cry which 
sounds much like " eaze-zve-up, eaze-we-up," 
rather wheezy in character and less emphatic 
than Sebec's call. Like all the family, he is a 
well-dressed bird, easily known by the pure 
throat and center of the breast, and two promi- 
dent wing bars. 

I have been much surprised at the number of 
Humming Birds which are summering amid the 
desolation of the stub lot. Rarely do I traverse 
the trail to First Pond without seeing several 
perched on dead limb or broken bole of fir or 
pine. Like tiny sentinels they detect the first 
approach of danger to their thimble-like homes, 
so securely hidden in the green moss below this 
favorite perch that I have not been able to find 
one, although the search has been both frequent 
and protracted. As they turn about to keep me 
well in view, their green backs gleam in the sun- 
light with the sheen of silk, and their throats 
flash like rubies. At times several will be seen 
darting about hither and thither like bees, with 



256 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

a very rapid twitter much like that of the Chim- 
ney Swift, but fainter. This tiny creature 
always excites my intense admiration. Think 
for a moment of the great distance he covers 
twice a year between this forest home and his 
winter abode in the tropics. The explanation is 
beyond man's knowledge. Little or nothing is 
known about his travels, except that he is seen 
in his winter home, then appears amid the June 
flowers of the north, even in Canada. Of this 
large exclusively American family the Ruby- 
throat is the only species that comes to us in east- 
ern North America. 

Once while watching an Olive-sided Fly- 
catcher perched on a stub, I saw a Humming 
Bird dart at him full tilt, striking him in the 
back of the head. Like a flash the Flycatcher 
turned and, snapping at the midget, caught him 
by a wing and held him for an instant, when he 
pulled away with a rattling twitter and sought 
a perch near me. There he sat for a time, 
smoothing out his rumpled feathers, occasionally 
looking across at the Flycatcher with what 
seemed to be sort of a got-more-than-I-bar- 
gained-for air. I am somewhat puzzled as to 
their food supply here, for flowers are not plenti- 
ful. I believe they, too, have taken up fly- 
catching. 

Although today is the last of June, the Cherry 
Birds are still in flocks, and they spend much 
time among the old stubs. They are graceful 
flycatchers, not so rapid in movement as are 
many birds, but with a precision and ease that 
is, quite pleasing to behold. They never seem to 



THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 257 

lose a certain air of refinement and elegance, 
and one feels that the delicate colors of their 
dainty dress and their faint lisping notes are 
quite in harmony with their characters. They 
are very tame, frequently keeping me com- 
pany along the trail, and so gentle are they 
I can scarcely imagine their uttering a harsh or 
discordant note. Sometimes it occurs to one 
that as the season is slipping by so rapidly they 
should be warned against the dangers of further 
delay in rearing the broods. 

A bird that vexed me not a little during the 
early part of my stay was the Pine Siskin, or 
Pine Finch. They frequented the thick grass 
plot between the cabins, feeding on the blossoms 
of the dandelion. At my approach they would 
rise with notes very much like those of the Gold- 
finch; in fact, because of the great similarity in 
notes, size and flight, I was nearly convinced 
that they were female Goldfinches, accounting 
for the slight difference in plumage as resulting 
from the process of moulting, although it was 
much earlier than the season when birds usually 
change their clothes. On close observation 
however, notes were heard discordant and re- 
pulsive as those of a Catbird, so unlike the ut- 
terances of the little cavalier in black and gold 
that the matter was at once decided, and their 
real identity discovered. They are nesting in 
the fir thicket that borders the clearing on the 
south, the nests being made of twigs and root- 
lets, lined with plant down. 

Ruffed Grouse. Not far from the clearing the 
up-river trail crosses a slight eminence where 



258 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

the soil is sandy and dry. Here a mother 
Grouse and her family take their daily dust 
bath, and I have often tried to catch them at 
this interesting and necessary process. Several 
times I have met them about the trails and their 
movements are always amusing. The young are 
now about the size of two-weeks-old chickens, 
and, when alarmed, some fly with a directness 
and precision which suggests the wonderful 
powers of flight they will a little later attain; 
others hide in the leaves and moss, the mother 
meanwhile gliding about with a peculiar noise 
much like the whining of a puppy. But if I 
conceal myself they quickly assemble again and 
the search for food goes on. This is the Canadian 
Ruffed Grouse, a bird which differs from the 
Ruffed Grouse found further south, having the 
bars on the under parts more distinct and a 
decided grayish tone instead of rufous above. 
So far as I have been able to observe, the only 
difference between this sub-variety and his well 
known brother, the Ruffed Grouse of New Eng- 
land and the Middle States, is the slight varia- 
tion in color. In mating and nesting habits, 
pose, form and flight, they are exactly alike. 
As happens in the case of nearly all dwellers of 
deep woods away from the daily haunts of man, 
the northern variety is very tame, more like 
barnyard fowl than game birds of the woods. 
This year at the foot of Mt. Katahdin, near the 
end of August, we came upon a flock, the young 
well grown and so tame that we could have hit 
them with our climbing sticks. They did not 
fly, but after walking about and eyeing us 



THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 259 

sharply for a time to satisfy their curiosity, 
went on with their feeding, gradually working 
away. What a contrast to the habits of the 
Grouse in the second-growth woods about my 
home! There they are so wild that often one 
does not see them at all, their presence being 
known only by a booming of wings as they go 
hurtling through the trees to some distant place of 
safety. We have no better example of the change 
that takes place in birds that have been pursued 
for generations by the man with dog and gun. 

So beset with constant danger are these 
sturdy denizens that the wonder is they have not 
been completely exterminated. The hunter is 
but one of their many menaces. As they are in 
the main ground dwellers, they are fair game for 
fox, mink, weasel, black cat and other prowlers 
of the dark that are as fond of the delicate 
flavor of Grouse breast as are the gun-bearing 
epicures. Nor are Owls and Hawks wholly de- 
void of a taste for this delectable creature. 
And this is not all. Probably the greatest danger 
Grouse face is from an entirely different source. 
During the long winter, when the snows are 
deep and soft, they often seek shelter from 
the terrible cold by plunging deep into the 
feathery mass, which, closing over them, pro- 
tects them from the biting blast. It often hap- 
pens that while thus imprisoned, a sudden 
change of temperature is followed by rain which 
softens the snow. Freezing weather then sets 
in, forming a hard crust which renders escape 
for the poor bird impossible. From this cause 
alone, many perish every year. 



260 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

The Grouse are the drummers of the bird 
orchestra. To my ears one of the most fascinat- 
ing of spring sounds is the muffled roll of the 
Cock, to be compared in interest with the frog 
chorus and the song of the first Robin. Begin- 
ning slowly and deliberately, it increases in 
rapidity until it is almost a continuous sound, a 
mellow, reverberating reveille, heard at all hours 
of the day and night during the months of 
spring. A pleasant boyhood memory is of the 
Ruffed Grouses' roll during the midnight hours, 
booming across the river from the dark forest 
that then clothed Sailor's Island. To my youth- 
ful imagination it called up many fanciful pic- 
tures of wood nymphs and fairies, always, how- 
ever, of a pleasant nature. 

Formerly there were many theories about the 
manner in which these drum beats are produced. 
The most common explanation was that the 
cock bird stood on a hollow log which he beat 
with his wings with varying rapidity. It is now 
definitely known that standing on any object 
that will render him most conspicuous, stump, 
log, rock or mound of earth, he beats the air 
with great vigor. The purpose of this is to at- 
tract the female bird, as the Woodpecker drums 
up his mate by beating a lively tattoo on some 
resonant limb, and the songster by his vocal 
utterances. The Grouse, possessing no vocal 
powers, resorts to this unique but no less effec- 
tive method. 

Spruce Grouse. The Canadian Spruce 
Grouse, or Spruce Partridge as it is sometimes 
called, is a resident of the deep black forests, 



THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 261 

and is becoming scarce even in remote regions. 
It is somewhat smaller than the Ruffed Gourse, 
with plumage much darker. The male has a 
bright red line over the eye. On the up-river 
trail one day I came upon a flock of these birds 
so tame as to appear very stupid. Not until I 
switched them with the stick in my hand did 
they show any desire to move away, and then 
they hopped into the low branches of the trees 
bordering the trail, still stupidly eyeing me. 

Indian Joe tells me that the Spruce Partridge 
drums only when on the wing while descending 
from some high perch to the ground. This I am 
not able to verify from personal observation, 
but Mr. Knight, in "Birds of Maine," speaks 
of this habit. 



Part III 

'Just a day on Nature's heart." 



Van Dyke. 



To the northwest of the clearing some three 
miles as the Ducks fly, farther by the well de- 
fined woodland trail which leads across the 
shoulder of Big Indian, is a clear blue lake in 
whose unruffled surface are mirrored the mas- 
sive forms of Big Elephant and Baker, which 
like stern dark sentinels guard this wilderness 
gem in its setting of unbroken forest. Its shape 
has given it the name of Horseshoe Lake, and 
the few who have penetrated to its peaceful soli- 
tude, know it as the abiding place of many 
richly colored trout of goodly size that rise 
eagerly at all hours of the day, in sunshine and 



262 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

storm, to the deftly cast fly. So to the fisher- 
man's mind, at least, its naming for the emblem 
of good luck is both wise and apt. 

Partly to fill a creel with trout, partly to ex- 
tend my acquaintance among the wild folk of 
the region, I set out early one morning with rod, 
field glass and camera, bound for this "paradise 
of the woods. " The trail starts from the far side 
of First Pond, and, as I embark to paddle 
across, from all sides the White-throats greet 
me with their morning melody, a message of 
peace and good cheer. As I enter the dense 
forest a red squirrel noisily salutes me, halts 
for an instant in his lively scramble up a spruce 
trunk, eyeing me furtively; then, scurrying to a 
limb, settles down comfortably to await devel- 
opments. His summer coat is several shades 
darker than his winter garb, but he is the same 
restless, rollicking alarmist, no matter what the 
season. 

From the narrow belt of black growth which 
borders the pond, the trail gradually ascends 
and the character of the forest changes com- 
pletely. Fir, spruce and cedar give way to 
beech, maple, white and yellow birch, with a 
sprinkling of ash and poplar here and there. 
This is the primeval forest and never has the 
white man's axe awakened its echoes except as 
trapper or surveyor has blazed his trail or built 
his campfire. The ground is thickly clad with a 
low growth of moose-wood and hobble-bush, 
and many flowering plants deck the borders of 
the path. Overhead the lofty roof of green is so 
dense from the intermingling of the thickly- 




AMERICAN REDSTAR' 



THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 263 

foliaged branches that the sun rays scarcely 
penetrate. The result is a subdued atmosphere, 
a half light as it were, in which the large boles 
stand grim and gray like the towering columns 
of some ancient temple. The general effect is 
that of a vast park in which one's range of vision 
is unobstructed for long distances. 

From the start my presence is signaled by 
bird notes. In the lower reaches of the trail 
Veery and Olive-backed Thrush announce my 
coming by call notes somewhat inquisitive if not 
altogether interrogative, and I catch occasional 
glimpses of their sober-clad forms as they silent- 
ly change positions, the better to inspect the in- 
truder. Then a Chickadee cheerily declares his 
identity, and if I am not mistaken, there is a 
note of welcome in his strain. A Redstart 
quickly voices the alarm, a Magnolia Warbler 
pipes his musical lay, and there come to my ear 
the droning notes of the Black-throated Green, 
more melodious than the utterances of many of 
his numerous relatives. The news of my coming 
is proclaimed from treetop to treetop by these 
feathered sentinels as I advance, and there 
comes to mind the old signal towers along the 
rocky headlands of the Spanish Coast from 
which the Moors by beacon fires flashed im- 
portant news for hundreds of miles. 

Soon the Teacher Birds take up the alarm and 
on all sides I am announced in energetic tones, 
the shrill notes ringing through the forest aisles 
in crescendo strains, emphatically declaring me 
the particular exponent of education whose 
coming they have so long heralded. 



264 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

In the trail are countless tiny toads so varied 
in coloring as to attract my attention. Where 
the earth is dark and mucky their backs are 
black; but where it is leaf strewn they are rusty 
brown, conforming almost perfectly to the col- 
oring of their surroundings, a very interesting 
illustration of Nature's scheme of protecting 
even her humblest creatures. 

A familiar chorus of squeaks breaks upon the 
ear and, halting to locate the source, I catch 
sight of a Hairy Woodpecker as he goes gallop- 
ing by with his bill full of grubs, hurrying to a 
dead birch. His approach is signaled by a loud 
"perk, perk. " The response is a jargon of hungry 
cries from his well-hidden brood, and as he 
lights just beneath the hole several black and 
white heads with open beaks appear, eagerly 
reaching for their breakfasts. He tarries only 
long enough to feed the youngsters, then with a 
farewell cry goes winging away for more food. 
These Woodpeckers seem most devoted and 
industrious parents. 

In the soft trail deep tracks are seen, sharp- 
pointed and clean-cut, easily recognized as those 
of a deer, a buck, evidently made since the rain 
of early morning, and headed in the direction 
I am traveling. Their freshness indicates that 
he may be close by, and, advancing with great 
caution, in a few minutes I am brought to a 
sudden halt by the crashing of underbrush just 
ahead and to the right of the trail, as a large 
buck in his handsome coat of summer red goes 
bounding away in uncertain flight. But he has 
not located the source of danger, and as I slip 



THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 265 

behind the bole of a beech he stops, scans the 
trail ahead for some distance, then evidently 
thinking his alarm unwarranted, turns about 
and works slowly back quietly browsing on the 
succulent stems of ash and moosewood. 

As he is not more than fifty yards distant I 
can see him distinctly, his wariness evident in 
every movement. Quickly cropping a mouthful 
of leaves, he raises his head and cautiously scans 
the forest, his ears constantly turning to catch 
the slightest sound. It is evident that a life 
amid constant peril has taught him unceasing 
vigilance. He is a large specimen with half- 
grown antlers in full velvet, rising straight above 
the shapely head like blunt sticks, giving little 
promise of the fine, wide-spreading, well polished 
weapons with which he will go forth to battle 
in the early fall. After watching him intently for 
some time, a careless movement on my part 
catches his quick eye, up goes the white flag and 
away he bounds, clearing a spruce top and sev- 
eral fallen trees with an ease that would be 
quite the envy of a professional hurdler. That 
he saw rather than scented me is evident from 
his failure to blow. 

As the trail crosses the height of land, large 
tracks, much like those of a cow, are seen, but 
larger and more pointed, and it is evident that 
a moose has recently passed this way. 

In a sharp angle of the pathway an Ovenbird 
springs up almost at my feet and flutters silently 
away after the manner of a nesting bird. A 
brief search reveals a nest so cleverly con- 
structed that, but for the presence of the owner, 



266 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

one would be unlikely to find it. Under the 
drooping branches of a tiny spruce is a globular 
mound of dead leaves, with an opening in the 
side to a cup-like receptacle nicely built of bits 
of bark and rootlets, in which are five white 
eggs thickly speckled with brown. The loose 
construction of the exterior and the character 
of the material serve well in its concealment, 
for to the casual observer it has all the ap- 
pearance of a bunch of leaves tossed together 
by the wind. Rarely have I seen a more attrac- 
tive home. Both location and architecture ap- 
peal to me as being particularly fitting for a 
ground dweller of the dense forest; and I with- 
draw with a resolve to secure this leaf-built 
bower as a souvenir of the woods, after it has 
served its purpose. 

From this point the trail descends and spruce 
and cedar appear again. From the thick tops 
comes the fine, shrill "wee-see, wee-see, wee-see" 
of the Blackburnian Warbler, the brilliant 
beauty of his plumage emphasized against the 
background of sombre green. With the feeling 
that I can well afford to delay my fishing for a 
visit with this beautiful little creature, I halt 
for some time to admire his exquisite coloring 
and his rather musical song. To add to my keen 
delight there comes from a thicket near at hand 
the inimitable song of the Winter Wren. Quite 
enraptured with the rare beauty of one and the 
splendid vocal performance of the other, I 
stand for some time, finally taking up the trail 
again with a deep sense of gratitude for Nature's 
lavish bounties. 



THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 267 

Where a small rock-strewn brook crosses the 
trail a stop is made for a drink of the pure, cold 
water and my eye is attracted by a peculiar 
track in the wet earth for all the world like that 
of a barefoot boy of ten. For a moment, for- 
getful of my surroundings, I picture a lad with 
dinner pail and well-thumbed books trudging 
along to school, and in imagination I hear the 
busy murmur of the classroom; then suddenly 
the realization comes to me that this is the wil- 
derness, and the tracks before me are not those 
of a boy at all, but of a good-sized bear, very 
fresh and headed in the direction I am going. 
With senses fully alert the advance is cau- 
tiously made in the hope of catching a sight 
of him while searching for his morning meal, 
unless, perchance, he has already scented me, 
and silently vanished in the undergrowth. 

The bear is the shyest of all the wild folk, and 
silent as a shadow must be he who approaches 
one without giving warning of his presence. 
Some distance along the trail I find signs of his 
work, a rotten log torn in pieces for the grubs 
hidden in the sodden mass; and a little farther, 
an old stump shattered and broken in his search 
for ants, the work displaying unmistakable 
evidence of his great strength. Close by, the 
tracks suddenly leave the trail and lead into a 
dense thicket, it being apparent from the in- 
creased distance between them that he was in a 
hurry, probably alarmed at my approach. 

Well knowing the futility of following him, 
the journey is continued and soon through the 
trees I catch a glimpse of the lake, its blue sur- 



268 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

face, ruffled by the gentle west wind, sparkling 
in the brilliant sunshine. On the farther shore 
a doe is leisurely wading along, now plucking 
the tender water grasses, now raising her slender 
neck for a bit of the cedar boughs to spice her 
meal. By the little cabin of rough logs built 
many years ago by a hunter, I find another 
visitor trying to gain entrance and judging 
from the size of the hole he had already gnawed, 
he would soon have succeeded but for the inter- 
ruption. Unwilling to entertain a hedgehog at 
lunch, I seek a stout stick and drive him some 
distance away, leaving him only after admin- 
istering a good drubbing on his quill-protected 
back. 

As I appear at the boat landing the deer 
gazes at me for an instant and vanishes; the 
cedar branches closing behind give no sign of 
her presence. Quickly paddling to the farther 
shore I am soon engaged in my favorite sport, 
and the response of the red-finned, red-spotted 
inhabitants of the lake is both prompt and 
earnest. A Blue Jay passes inshore, his strange 
silence indicating the domestic nature of his 
errand.- A "Lone Fisherman" rattles by, and 
perching on a dead limb well out over the water 
declares his purpose of catching a trout, although 
he has no gaudy flies to tempt them. Soon he 
plunges, emerges with a wriggling fish and dis- 
appears around the point where, no doubt, he 
has a family to provide for. 

Loon. Presently a dark cloud overspreads 
the sky, the wind freshens, and from the middle 
of the lake comes the lonesome cry of a Loon. 



THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 269 

Gradually he works toward me into shallow 
water and soon is diving for fish, for he, too, is 
a lover of these delicately-flavored trout. Be- 
tween his divings, raising himself well out of 
water, he announces his success in weird laugh- 
ter with a great flourish of his long wings. Then 
he, too, disappears around the bend, for his nest 
is in the Pocket, the little bag-shaped bay at the 
southwest end of the lake. So close to the water 
that the nesting bird can slip into it without the 
necessity of walking at all, is a loose pile of 
sticks and rushes in which are deposited the 
two large lead-colored eggs. 

This bird is very well adapted to a life on the 
water, but is ill suited for land dwelling, as its 
legs are so far back (at the end of the body in 
fact), that when trying to walk it overbalances 
in a very awkward manner. But on the water 
it is a veritable master; for not only can it stay 
under for what seems an incredible length of 
time for an air-breathing creature, but so great 
are its natatorial powers that the distance 
traversed during one of its submarine excur- 
sions is little short of marvelous. No less strik- 
ing is the celerity which it displays in getting 
under. It is a well-known fact among hunters 
that in the old days of muzzle-loading guns the 
chances of killing a Loon, unless he could be 
taken unawares, were very small. So keen of 
eye was he, and so quick of movement, that in 
the instant between the flash of the cap and the 
arrival of the bullet the bird was able to get 
safely below the surface, and the bullet harm- 
lessly hit the water where he had been sitting. 



270 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

But with the coming of the high-power, breech- 
loading guns, even the wonderful quickness of 
this noble bird cannot save him from the ruth- 
less hunter. And, in consequence, he is becom- 
ing comparatively rare although formerly his 
piercing voice raised the echoes on nearly every 
woodland lake of the north country. 

There is much about the Great Northern 
Diver that smacks of the wilderness. His shy 
nesting habits, his splendid powers of swimming 
and flight, and, above all, his weird, unearthly 
cry, make him the most interesting inhabitant 
of woodland waters. His cry sometimes so 
closely resembles the shrieking of a person in 
sore distress as to easily deceive one. I well 
remember when a boy one spring day I had 
strayed along the bank of the Androscoggin 
without the knowledge of my parents, when a 
Loon paddling about in the river raised his 
awful cry, and at once the folks came rushing 
out to rescue me from drowning. 

If when camped on some woodland lake there 
comes to your ears this wild, lonesome, quaver- 
ing cry its effect is hair-raising. Some years ago 
we were occupying the little log cabin here on 
Horseshoe Lake. In the middle of a September 
night we were awakened by a fearful tempest 
of lightning, rain and wind that laid low many 
an old monarch of the forest. In the midst of 
this warring of the elements, right off the camp 
two Loons raised their weirdest, most awful 
cries. Never in my many years of experience 
in the woods have I heard sounds more alarm- 
ing, more awesome and fear-inspiring, although 



THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 271 

we well knew their source. The proverbial laugh- 
ter of demons could scarcely have been more 
fearsome. It is said these cries are not unlike 
the howling of wolves. 

One year while at Big Lyford Pond, the head- 
waters of Pleasant River, we found a Loon's 
nest by the shore. At dusk we made an effort to 
stalk the sitting bird in our canoe, but while yet 
fifty feet away she slid into the water, the gleam 
of her white breast in the shallows being the 
only indication we had of her presence, until 
she arose a hundred yards from shore. Far into 
the night the pair broke the stillness with their 
cries of protest at being disturbed. 

The Loon is a fish-eating bird that seizes its 
prey under the water with its strong, sharply 
pointed bill. Stones are told of fishermen catch- 
ing Loons in water eighty or more feet deep, good 
evidence of their power as swimmers. They 
range in summer from northern New England 
to the Arctic Circle, wintering usually about the 
salt water, from southern New England to the 
Gulf. 

Midday brings me to camp, where a lunch of 
broiled trout is greatly enjoyed, and in the hour 
of leisure that follows, several of my feathered 
friends call. A Robin comes hurtling out of the 
thicket by the spring, watches me for a time, 
then disappears, seemingly quite out of place 
in this remote locality. The harsh cackles of 
the Rusty Blackbird are heard as a squad ap- 
pears, vigorously punishing a solitary Crow 
which evidently ventured too near their nests. 
This is the only corn puller I have seen since com- 



272 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

ing into the woods. It may be that their absence 
is due to the fact that here is no corn to pull. 

High over a distant hill a pair of Broad- 
winged Hawks wheel in great circles above their 
forest home. Across the lake in arrow-like 
flight comes a Sheldrake, settling in the shallows 
for a meal of small trout. At the rear of the 
cabin a Preacher Bird voices his arguments, the 
discourse often punctuated by marks of inter- 
rogation, and exclamation as well. The slowly 
westering sun gives its warning of declining day; 
back to the lake I go and in reasonable time the 
creel is filled with choice fish of satisfactory size. 

On the return I again inspect the Oven Bird's 
home, and this time she does not fly until my 
hand almost closes the opening to her leafy 
bower. A little farther along the trail such a 
jargon of shrill Jay cries suddenly bursts from 
the treetops just ahead of me as to instantly 
bring me to a halt, wondering upon what mis- 
chief these freebooters in blue are now bent. 
The uncertainty is short lived, for above their 
shrieks rises a hoarse cry, startling and raucous, 
"whoo-o-ah, whoo-o-ah-h," so discordant and 
altogether strange that for an instant I am quite 
at a loss to account for it. 

A little investigation with the field glass, 
however, reveals its source, a large Barred Owl, 
beset and sadly harassed by a band of Blue 
Jays. Perched in the topmost limbs of a tall 
birch, he strikes savagely with beak and claw 
at his daring tormentors as they dart at him, 
hurling at them his defiance in full voiced cry. 
Thoroughly aroused and desperate he defends 



THE WILDERNESS IN JUNE 273 

himself, and for a time seems quite able to hold 
his own. 

But after a few moments of strenuous resist- 
ance he seems discouraged at their numbers and 
takes wing, clumsily making his way among the 
treetops, half blinded in the strong light. His 
retreat is the signal for redoubled efforts on the 
part of the Jays, and they fairly swarm about 
him in his flight, soon forcing him to perch 
again. Here the attack is continued, and again 
he seeks safety in flight. As I proceed far down 
the trail I hear his fierce battlecry; but I sus- 
pect that with the coming of darkness when his 
full powers of vision return there will be quick 
scattering among his noisy tormentors. 

In the lowlands the Thrushes are voicing 
their evening hymns and about First Pond the 
White-throats are singing their farewells to the 
day. The cabin is reached with a deep sense 
of satisfaction in the events of the day. 

During a month's stay in the forest sixty- 
eight varieties of birds were fully identified. 
Glimpses of several other Warblers were had, 
but so fleeting that it was not possible to posi- 
tively name them. No doubt there are eighty 
or more varieties there, a wonderful chorus you 
may be sure, heard by few besides the wild 
folk themselves. Yet were the birds the only 
attraction of the wilderness, it is sufficient to 
make delightful a long visit to its sheltering 
depths. 



Chapter XVI 
IN THE ORCHARD 

"I once knew all the birds that came 
And nested in our orchard trees, 
For every flower I had a name — 
My friends were woodchucks, toads, and bees; 
I knew where thrived in yonder glen 
What plants would soothe a stone-bruised toe — 
Oh I was very learned then, 
But that was very long ago. " 

— Eugene Field. 

To many of our feathered friends there are 
few places more attractive than an orchard, if 
its location be somewhat secluded, and the tree- 
tops thick enough to afford good shelter. Dur- 
ing the spring migration the weary travelers 
halt here for food and rest; as the nesting season 
approaches many seek its friendly shade as a 
suitable situation in which to rear their young; 
in autumn, with the coming of the time for the 
southward march again, it is a favorite rallying 
place for the families of the neighborhood while 
making ready for the journey. 

Here, too, during the late summer and early 
fall may be seen many strangers that nested 
in the Far North, in distant Labrador, or on the 
shores of Hudson Bay, leisurely working their 
way back to winter homes in sunnier climes. 
At this time there is little evidence of the haste 
which marked their northward passage, for the 

274 



IN THE ORCHARD 275 

labors of the season are over, and the young, 
now full grown, are cheerful fellow-travelers, 
even outnumbering the parent birds. These 
wise little bodies foretell the coming of the bleak 
winter with wonderful certainty, for long before 
the first visit of Jack Frost, even while the 
sway of summer is yet undisputed, they leave 
their nesting grounds to take up the first stages 
of the southward journey. 

But even when the last summer visitor has 
departed and the chill blasts of winter are again 
sweeping the desolate landscape, the orchard 
still has its feathered folk; for several hardy 
pilgrims of the snow here find favorable feeding 
grounds, and many other winter wanderers make 
occasional calls. 

Our little valley in Maine is bordered to the 
west by a long low hill, standing modestly back 
from the road and river, facing eastward. Along 
its southern slope and reaching well up over the 
brow is such an orchard, with trees gnarled and 
twisted by the storms of many winters, yet 
vigorous and fruitful despite their advanced 
age and many deformities. 

The wide-spreading trees join their branches 
in friendly clasp, forming in summer a roof of 
green so dense that only here and there the sun- 
light strikes through. As a result, the moist soil 
beneath is scantily clothed with fine grass and 
earthworms abound, much to the happiness of 
many birds. The orchard is enclosed on all 
sides by a high moss-grown stone wall, broken 
and irregular, upon which have been piled for 
many years the superfluous branches pruned 



276 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

from the thick treetops, excellent cover for the 
more timid folks. 

A few rods back of the orchard is a dense 
growth of pine and hemlock, birch and maple 
which reaches down the western slope of the hill 
into a narrow glen where a tiny brook tinkles 
and gurgles over its rocky bed. In front of this 
orchard rich pasture lands slope down to the 
farmhouses of the valley. That to the south is 
studded by a grove of sugar maples whose 
sturdy lichen-covered boles yield every spring a 
generous flow of their lifeblood in response to 
the invitation of the farmer, bountifully sup- 
plying him with one of Nature's choicest sweets. 

These surroundings and the comparative 
seclusion of the orchard make it the favorite 
haunt of birds at all seasons of the year, and 
rarely does a person enter its borders without 
finding some one of them plying his trade in his 
own peculiar way. 

In the late autumn days, as twilight falls, 
Grouse slip out of the neighboring thickets to 
feast upon the tender buds all carefully sealed 
for winter. They are not, I fear, very welcome 
visitors, for the fact is they do much damage by 
nipping off the blossom buds which enclose the 
promise of next year's crop. 

So it frequently happens that the farmer is 
seen in the dusk of a December day with gun 
firmly clasped in toilworn hands making his 
way stealthily about, or sitting quietly on some 
moss-clad boulder, grimly bent upon the de- 
struction of this feathered menace. Much as I 
appreciate the justice of the farmer's cause, my 



IN THE ORCHARD 277 

sympathies are always enlisted on the side of 
the culprit. For is it not quite necessary that 
he be well fed at this season that he may be pre- 
pared to withstand the rigors of the fast ap- 
proaching winter? To be sure he could feed upon 
the buds of maple and birch in the nearby wood, 
but these lack the delicate flavor of apple buds, 
and with birds, as men, variety adds spice to 
existence. And it may be that the element of 
adventure is not wholly unattractive to these 
hardy citizens. 

Every day Downy Woodpeckers beat lively 
tattoos here, and the tree trunks bear many 
autographs of these very useful birds, worked 
in the rough bark with great regularity. Not 
only do they find various insects concealed in 
the outer covering, but drilling this they seek 
the delicate inner layer, the soft and juicy 
cambium, which is a favorite food. Orchard 
owners are inclined to the belief that the numer- 
ous punctures injure the tree*; but such is not 
the case unless the rows of holes, girdling the 
tree, shut off the flow of sap, a condition which 
rarely occurs. The Downies live close by, and 
the journey, being short, is often made. 

In the warm spring days the orchard is the 
scene of much love making. In early April the 
male Downy, he of the red nape, "turns his 
thoughts to love," and not having the gift of 
song with which to woo a mate attempts to 
drum her up. For this purpose he seeks a dead, 
dry limb that will resound tunefully to the ap- 
plication of his drumstick, and his rolling tattoo 
is often heard. 



278 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

The female, with becoming modesty, flits 
about the edge of the wood, plainly hearing the 
love call, yet shyly remaining in the background 
for a time, lest it appear that her affections are 
too easily won. Perhaps, too, sh~ remembers 
how in previous years, at the approach of cold 
weather, her faithless mate deserted her, making 
for himself a new retreat where he passed the 
winter in selfish solitude. 

But finally the increasing ardor of the lover 
overcomes her reluctance, she coyly approaches, 
a formal compact is made, and a pair of happy 
hearts seeks a suitable tree where a snug home 
for the brood is excavated. 

The Downy's larger cousin, the Hairy, he of 
the bold call and louder taps, occasionally reg- 
isters here; but his autographs take the form of 
good-sized holes cut in decaying branches or 
trunk to reach the concealed wood borer. His 
love making, similar in kind, takes place in the 
seclusion of the woods, for he is rather a shy 
bird, not so often seen in the open. 

One spring day as I entered the orchard I 
caught a flash of red and gold from the farther 
side, and there came to my ears gentle love 
notes, soft as the cooing of a dove. On a low 
limb I saw two male Flickers paying court to 
the lady of their choice. How they did bow and 
courtesy, spreading their beautiful tails like 
fans, the yellow quills shining like ribs of gold, 
as they bubbled and gurgled with the ecstasy of 
their wooing! 

Meantime the courted lady, apparently un- 
moved, sat bolt upright between the two, with 



IN THE ORCHARD 279 

something of a disdainful poise of her handsome 
head, as it seemed to me, but giving no visible 
sign of encouragement to the ardent advances 
of either. For some time the little drama went 
on, then she took wing in bounding flight, closely 
followed by her persistent admirers. 

It would be very interesting to know if she 
finally accepted one of these suitors, and upon 
what her choice was based. Was her coyness a 
part of the etiquette of Flicker courtship ? Who 
can tell the sequel to this idyl of the spring? 
That one of the lovers was successful I feel very 
sure, for a pair of Flickers nested in a dead 
maple in the grove, in a hole some forty feet 
from the ground. How aptly are they named 
Highholes ! 

During all the colder months Chickadees are 
daily visitors. They carefully inspect every 
cranny and crevice of trunk and limb for the 
eggs of various insects, fearlessly clinging to the 
very tips of the wind-tossed branches, and mer- 
rily calling to one another as they busily search. 
In the warm days of April are heard their 
" sweetheart" notes, inexpressibly tender, and 
a variety of dainty calls which are always 
sprightly messages of good cheer. But at all 
seasons one does not listen long without hearing 
their identity declared over and over again, 
" chick-a-dee-dee, chick-a-dee-dee-dee," a cheery 
and mirthful declaration. Few birds appear 
happier under the trying conditions of our 
rapid changes of climate and no visitor to the 
orchard gives evidence of a lighter heart. There 
is not a more useful bird to the farmer than this 



280 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

sprite in black and gray, a fact which I fear he 
does not fully appreciate. These midgets actu- 
ally destroy every year countless numbers of 
harmful insects, making possible in a great 
degree the success of the apple crop* 

Last year the trees were loaded. Northern 
Spy and Ben Davis, Baldwin and Bellflower 
bent beneath the weight of luscious fruit which 
clustered amid the dark foliage, with cheeks 
deep-flushed by the autumn sun. A hard frost 
in mid-October rendered worthless many barrels 
of the juicy apples which were left upon the 
trees, where they hung all winter, hard as rocks 
in the freezing weather. But, thawed by the 
spring sun and April rain they fell to earth, and 
Robin and Red-wing, hungry from their long 
flight, feasted sumptuously on the soft brown 
pulp. 

When I first saw large flocks of these birds 
here in early April I thought they were picking 
out the seeds, but close inspection convinced me 
that they were eating the pulp, leaving the seeds 
untouched. This fact greatly interested a red 
squirrel who lives here, for their generosity saved 
him much labor. All he had to do to secure his 
rations was to follow a squad of these rollicking 
rovers, picking up the seeds which they rejected. 
He seemed to fully appreciate the opportunity, 
for I often found him on duty, a sort of camp- 
follower to the flock. 

He has a sweet tooth also. One day I saw him 
in a sugar maple clinging to the under side of a 
limb, daintily sipping the sap which trickled 
from a crack in the tender bark caused by last 



IN THE ORCHARD 281 

winter's hard freezing. So absorbed was he in 
the enjoyment of this delicacy that he paid no 
attention to me, although I stood for a long 
time within a few feet of him. 

How Robin and Red-wing frolic and flourish 
here in the bright spring weather! All through 
April they live in bands, and, to all appearances, 
get on admirably together, for I see them in the 
treetops whistling and singing, cackling and 
caroling in great glee. Then down upon the 
ground they drop, feeding side by side in perfect 
amity, Red-wing's glossy coat with its brilliant 
trimmings making a fine contrast to Robin's 
duller-hued garments. But unless my eyes de- 
ceive me, toward the end of the month his breast 
takes on a deeper flush, probably his wedding 
colors, for the mating season is near at hand. 
After that happy event is over, he gives up his 
careless, roaming life and settles down to more 
serious business, nest building and caring for the 
mate and little ones. 

There lives in the orchard a gray old wood- 
chuck, a permanent resident for many years. 
To be sure, he is not in evidence during the win- 
ter, for he sleeps away the dreary months, cosily 
tucked in his warm nest in a deep hole under 
the wall. But the awakening season stirs his 
sluggish blood, too, and by the latter part of 
March he ventures forth, still drowsy and quite 
unkempt after his long nap, to renew his 
acquaintance with the outside world. 

One day I sighted him, alarmed at my ap- 
proach, scurrying along in great haste, to a safe 
station at the mouth of his den. Halting there 



282 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

he warily watched me for a time, then with an 
explosive whistle that startled every feathered 
creature within hearing into sudden flight, he 
sought his dark retreat, chattering and grumbling 
his protest at being disturbed in his own domain. 
He seems to be a sort of watchman whose duty 
it is to keep ward over the inhabitants of the 
orchard. At any rate, all recognize his signal, 
for they beat a hasty retreat whenever his alarm 
is heard. 

A large band of Juncos tarries here during the 
month of April on their journey north, convoying 
straggling squads of Sparrows, Vesper, Song, 
Tree and Savanna. They spend much time on 
the ground, gleaning seeds from last year's 
grasses and weeds. They pay little heed to my 
approach until I am close upon them, when up 
they spring, the whole flock as a single bird, with 
a tense sound like the flapping of a sail, their 
white-bordered tails flashing the alarm to any 
stragglers that have not perceived the intruder. 

Then in the low trees they sit for a time, very 
smart in their suits of dark slate and white. 
Their alarm soon passing, the whole band sets up 
a chorus of trills and calls which may not be 
classed as true melody, yet are very pleasant 
sounds; and, coming from such contented little 
bodies, they strangely appeal to one's sense of 
the fitness of things. At least four different 
utterances have I noted, one a song of much 
merit, although simple in the variety of its notes. 

At the alarm the Song Sparrows pump their 
way to cover in the old brush rick along the 
walls, where for a brief interval they hide; but 



IN THE ORCHARD 283 

their restlessness quickly sends them out again 
and, as confidence is restored, from the topmost 
stones they vigorously proclaim their faith that 
all is well. Then back to their feeding they go, 
as though nothing unusual had happened. 

The Vespers are usually silent, except at 
morning and evening, but the Savannas from 
the low branches join in with their grasshopper- 
like trills, so faint as to be audible but a short 
distance away. 

Occasionally in April Fox Sparrows are seen, 
their bright brown coats very conspicuous 
among the rather dull shades of the band. But 
they appear shy and restless, evidently feeling 
out of place in such open location, and soon take 
wing in a steady thrush-like flight for the denser 
cover of the woods. 

In early May male Purple Finches come, and 
all day deftly shell the apple seeds for the dainty 
morsel within. At times they also pick off the 
swelling buds, but this fact is, I hope, unknown 
to the farmer; for did he know, he might feel 
called upon to interfere with these brilliant mem- 
bers of the spring choir. 

So beautiful is the red of their coats that one 
easily imagines they have been dipped in the 
juice of wild strawberries. And what a striking 
contrast to their modestly dressed mates who 
arrive a little later! It is not an easy matter 
to distinguish the females from the numerous 
Sparrows about, but their short, rounded bills 
and forked tails will lead to their identity. 

During the spring days Hermit Thrushes 
steal out of the woods for a stroll in the orchard, 



284 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

but here they are shy and silent, not even greet- 
ing me with a call note. The deep gloom of the 
evergreens alone seems to inspire them to their 
supreme effort! I see them feeding on the re- 
mains of the apples left by the earlier foragers, 
and last year's berries of the sumachs which 
grow along the wall. 

Phcebe comes early and for a few days is very 
busy with flycatching, evidently being extremely 
hungry after his long flight. For several days 
his gentle notes are much in evidence, but with 
the arrival of his mate the devoted pair seek a 
favorable nesting place in a barn cellar, or 
under one of the bridges spanning the Nezinscot. 

Several Warblers make brief calls as they 
pass along; Yellow Palm and Myrtle, Black and 
White, and Blackpoll, Nashville and Yellow- 
throat halt here to rest and feed. I have not 
found the nests of any members of this cele- 
brated family here, but as individuals of several 
varieties appear at times all summer, I judge 
they must be nesting in the near-by thickets. 

Chipping Sparrows take possession in late 
April and for several months are the most nu- 
merous birds. The task of collecting hair for the 
nest linings must be a very easy one in the neigh- 
boring pasture lands. Now and then I see them 
fly catching, although, like all the members of 
the family, they are known as seed eaters. 
Sebec comes soon after, and his metallic notes 
are pretty constant sounds all summer. Blue- 
birds find a satisfactory home in hollow branch 
or trunk and the mellow warble of this constant 
lover makes a pleasing sound during all the 



IN THE ORCHARD 283 

springtime. No sooner are the youngsters of the 
first brood flying about in their' speckled suits, 
than the mother, leaving to the father the task 
of solving the food problem for the family, goes 
back to rear a second brood, and late in July the 
two families unite in a happy band of rovers. 

Of all the Robins that gather here in early 
spring, usually but a single pair remains, build- 
ing their rude nest in the fork of a tree, often not 
more than five or six feet above the ground. A 
prowling cat or weasel would have a fine feast 
on a nestful of the tender fledglings, but in spite 
of the exposed position of the nest the brood is 
usually reared in safety, and by mid- June they 
are flying freely about in their short-tailed suits 
of spotted brown. Soon five more blue eggs are 
laid and a few weeks later the second family 
joins the first, the industrious parents appearing 
very proud of their sturdy flock. 

These highly prized friends of man show so 
little sagacity in concealing their nests, the won- 
der is that the young are not all destroyed. But 
a kind Providence seems to protect them, for 
among all the Robins' nests I find during a 
season, probably a dozen or more, not often do 
I discover a tragedy. Yet among the nests of the 
other varieties which I observe, the destruction 
from one cause or another is sometimes very 
great. 

By the first of May all the Redwings abandon 
the orchard, taking themselves to the lowlands 
where in the bushes about the brook mouth and 
cove, they settle down for the summer. Last 
year many nests built in the low bushes came 



286 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

to grief from a quick rise of water in early June. 
But these were at once deserted and others 
built in safer locations so that a goodly number 
of young were reared. 

In early May the Sparrows also scatter for 
nesting grounds in the neighboring fields and 
pastures. Two or three pairs of Song Sparrows 
and a pair of Vespers remain in the orchard, 
finding secure home sites in the tall grass. 
Orioles -and Kingbirds come by mid-May, and a 
pair of each usually remains for the summer. 
The Kingbirds, in searching for nest-building 
material, come to our lawn where we hang out 
strings of many sizes and colors. For several 
days we see them pulling and tugging at the 
coveted twine, then flying away with it over the 
hill to the orchard. 

Later, when the nest is found, we marvel much 
at the strings festooned about the branches, sev- 
eral feet from the nest. Is this to suggest danger- 
ous nets and snares to all creatures that happen 
near? And is it the same instinct which prompts 
his cousin, the Great Crested Flycatcher, to 
hang outside his home the ominous snakeskin? 
Last year I visited the nest several times, and 
was much surprised at the lack of noisy dem- 
onstration usually made by these birds when 
one approaches their home. In truth, it almost 
seemed that they knew I was a friend who 
would do them no harm, for they sat demurely 
by while I admired the fledglings. 

By the first of August in the orchard appears 
the vanguard of the northern army already 
taking up the return march, and soon comes 



IN THE ORCHARD 287 

trooping back by easy stages the main body of 
the early migrants, Humming Birds and Swal- 
lows, Warblers and Flycatchers. The more deli- 
cate members of the feathered army are slowly 
followed by the hardier varieties, many of which 
linger about through the golden days of autumn, 
even until bleak November is again upon us. 

During the warm, smoky days of Indian sum- 
mer the migration seems to halt for a time, as 
though the birds, too, are quite deceived into 
believing that the balmy air really presages 
the return of the season of joy and song. But 
the cold storm, which is pretty sure to follow 
these halcyon days, starts them southward again 
in a hurry, and only the permanent residents 
are left to cheer us. Soon the Woodchuck seeks 
his winter quarters, the Red Squirrel hunts closer 
cover in the shelter of the pines, and through 
the bare limbs of the old trees sifts the driving 
snow. The walls are buried in rapidly growing 
drifts and the world of green becomes a world of 
white. 

As the years go by, each season brings to the 
orchard its feathered visitors with their songs of 
gladness, some tarrying for a long stay, some 
hurrying on to more attractive scenes. If one 
were but to observe the birds that call here dur- 
ing the year, the list would be a long one and 
many interesting stories could be told. Withal 
it is a delightful spot, where both bird and man 
find much to make the heart glad. 



Chapter XVII 
BIRD ODDITIES 

"I repeat them as I heard them." 

— Hiawatha, Longfellow. 

One of our neighbors in the country, a lady 
who was a great lover of birds, early one autumn 
caught a pair of Juncos in the woodhouse and 
placed them in a cage just made vacant by the 
death of a Canary. Their handsome coats, clean 
white bills, well groomed appearance, sprightly 
call notes and genial ways, made them very at- 
tractive pets. For some time they seemed quite 
as happy in their new home as when roaming 
about the country with their mates. But after 
a few weeks, one of them lost something of its 
cheerfulness, began to droop and showed such 
unmistakable signs of illness that the lady, fear- 
ing it would die, released it. 

The other seemed happy and contented until 
the fall migration began, when from the perch 
by the window it could see its fellows playing in 
the lilac bushes in the yard. This sight, or the 
sound of their merry calls, appeared to arouse a 
desire for liberty again, for it, too, became rest- 
less and discontented, fluttering and beating its 
wings against the wires of the cage, seemingly 
possessed of a deep longing for their companion- 
ship. So clearly did it express its desire for free- 

288 









i 




Courtesy of the National Association of Audubon Societies 

JUNCO 



BIRD ODDITIES 289 

dom that the tender-hearted lady took the cage 
to an open window in the chamber and released 
it, little expecting to see her pet again. 

The Junco at once joined a flock in the yard, 
and to all appearances was very happy in the 
society of its own kind. The cage, with the door 
ajar, was left by the open window and when the 
shades of evening began to fall, the signal for 
bedtime in bird-land, the little fellow, leaving 
the flock, flew to the open window, entered the 
cage and went to sleep on its accustomed perch. 
This was repeated every night until the season 
was well advanced, when it finally joined a 
company of Juncos on their way south. 

The next spring when the northern migration 
again brought a flock of these birds to her yard, 
the lady placed the cage by the open window 
with the faint hope that if her old friend chanced 
that way it would at least make a brief call. 
That very night a Junco came and slept in the 
cage and continued to return every night as long 
as flocks of Juncos were about; but with the ap- 
proach of the mating season, when all the family 
started for the northern nesting grounds, it 
disappeared and did not return again. 

The query naturally arises, was this the same 
bird that occupied the cage the previous fall or 
a stranger that chanced along? While it is diffi- 
cult to positively identify individual birds, yet 
it seems there can be little doubt in this case; for 
if it was not the same bird why did it leave the 
flock to seek so unusual a resting place? 

The whole question of the return of birds to 
familiar localities is a highly interesting one, and 



290 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

we are anxious to believe that the same friends 
return to us every spring, for we love to hail 
them as old acquaintances. It seems highly- 
probable that the majority of birds do return 
to familiar localities; in fact, it has been defi- 
nitely proven in several instances that an in- 
dividual has returned to a familiar haunt year 
after year, even occupying the same nest. I 
have seen a Robin on arriving in the spring, go 
at once to the old nest under our porch, and 
after mating, begin housekeeping either in the 
old nest, or a new one built close beside it. This 
bird, a male, had every appearance of being 
perfectly familiar with the surroundings. It 
seems clear that frequently one of a pair, usually 
the male, will lead his new mate to the old nest- 
ing place where for several seasons, perhaps, the 
brood has been reared in security. 

In my boyhood, the way to school was along a 
road bordered for some distance on one side by 
an old stump fence which for many years had 
successfully withstood the ravages of the ele- 
ments. A hollow stump root, occupied year 
after year, as the nesting place of a pair of Blue- 
birds, attracted much attention from the pass- 
ing children. I recently learned that the root 
still shelters each year a Bluebird family, and 
upon fur crier inquiry, a man some seventy years 
of age informed me that in his boyhood, too, 
it was the home of these heralds of the spring. 
For more than sixty years the old stump has 
been the abiding place of Bluebirds and it would 
be very interesting to know if the occupants today 
are descendants of the original householders. 



BIRD ODDITIES 291 

Birds of a given variety are so much alike that 
it is not easy to distinguish individuals, except 
between male and female, yet by careful study 
one may find traits which will lead to the posi- 
tive identification of a particular bird. They 
seem never to grow old, at least there is little 
visible change in their appearance from year to 
year. The plumage is glossy and well groomed 
when they arrive in the springtime, as though 
they were a year younger, rather than a year 
older, and their sprightly manners and songs 
of good cheer give no sign of advancing age. 
No doubt many die during the long journeys, 
and alas! many are killed by hunters in the 
South, where laws are not generally observed. 
But their places about our homes are filled 
by others so closely resembling the old friends 
that we are not able to detect the difference, 
except by the most painstaking observations, 
and our enjoyment of their presence goes on 
as we have no knowledge of the change. 

Bird Company 

"And the birds sang round him, o'er him." 

— Hiawatha, Longfellow. 

My friend, the Old Guide, is an ardent bird 
lover. During all the years he has lived in the 
woods he has ever been alert in the study of 
their ways, and has gained close acquaintance 
with them. Not only has he been a careful and 
intelligent observer, but he possesses in an 
unusual degree that natural fondness for, and 
sympathy with, the wild folk, both birds and 



292 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

animals, which are necessary to a keen insight 
into their habits. Being much alone in the wil- 
derness from the nature of his calling, he turned 
to the study of these creatures for amusement, 
and he has had many interesting experiences. 
As you cannot have the pleasure of hearing these 
stories from his lips, I will attempt to record a 
few here. 

It often happened that with the approach of 
the season of deep snows his occupation as guide 
ceased, and he sought employment as cook for a 
crew of lumbermen. During the long winters he 
had many quite unusual experiences with the 
birds and one in particular he relates, which af- 
forded him much amusement and real pleasure 
as well. Far in the woods, cut oif from civiliza- 
tion, the only means of communication with the 
outside world being the tote team which made 
occasional trips to the settlement for supplies, 
he turned to the feathered and the furred folk 
about him for entertainment. 

The winter days being very short, the men 
left camp for their labor in the morning, before 
the first glint of daylight, returning when the 
shades were beginning to fall, for in the gloom 
of the spruce forest the night comes quickly. 
During the hours of daylight he was left alone 
with a boy, his assistant in the work of prepar- 
ing food for the crew. A part of the boy J s duty 
was to carry the midday lunch to the men who 
were cutting the timber too far from the camp 
to warrant their return at noon. By eleven 
o'clock each day the boy would set out with 
buckets of food and great pots of steaming 



BIRD ODDITIES 293 

coffee on a strong, roughly built sled drawn by a 
sedate old horse, as the lumber roads are far 
from smooth and adapted only to a very slow 
pace, if one is to travel safely. Thus left alone 
for several hours each day my friend turned to 
the birds for amusement. 

When, in late November, the first real stress of 
winter came with the deeper snows, a flock of 
Red Crossbills took up their temporary abode 
in the evergreen trees near the camp. For these 
he sprinkled bits of food on the snow, at first 
withdrawing at once that his presence might 
not keep them from the feast. But very quickly 
they learned of his benevolence, and his appear- 
ance was the signal for them to drop down from 
the treetops and gather about him. The small 
flock of Crossbills grew into a large one as the 
winter advanced, and they were joined by a 
great number of "Chit-a-wits, " as he calls them, 
a bird which I believe to be either the Tree 
Sparrow or Redpoll. 

Learning their great fondness for salt, he 
sprinkled their food generously with it, and 
threw out for them the brine from the pork 
barrels, the salt of which they eagerly devoured. 
In a few weeks a colony of more than a hundred 
came to depend upon him for their daily food 
supply. So tame did they become under this 
gentle treatment, that his signal whistle was in- 
stantly followed by the whir of many wings as 
down they came, lighting on his shoulder, hat 
and arms, even peeking into the pockets of his 
coat, where were stowed away a few choice bits 
of cake well seasoned with salt. In a short time 



294 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

he could take them in his hands, stroking and 
petting them as one does a tame Canary. 

But they would permit the presence of no one 
else. In telling the lumbermen of his pets a 
desire was expressed to see the unusual sight 
and arrangements were made for feeding the 
birds at dusk as the men came from work. So 
the next day he postponed the feeding until a 
halloo from the forest signaled the approach of 
the men. As usual his whistle brought the birds 
about, and in a moment he was covered with 
them, eagerly clamoring for their delayed supper. 
When they were well settled at their meal, at 
his low whistle, the men quietly appeared around 
the corner of the camp, when instantly with a cry 
of alarm, the entire flock, Crossbills and "Chit- 
a-wits," took wing for the hemlocks and could not 
be induced to return while the men were in sight. 
But as soon as the men withdrew, back came the 
birds and finished their meal without further 
interruption. Although the experiment was tried 
again and again during the winter, not once did 
the birds remain at their feeding after the men 
came into view. 

All winter he had these pets about him, and 
much amusement and keen pleasure he derived 
from their friendliness and companionship. He 
left in the early spring at the close of the season's 
operation with a deep sense of regret and a feel- 
ing of loneliness at leaving his feathered friends. 
"And," said the old man, after relating the 
story, "I was never happier in my life than dur- 
ing that winter with those dear little creatures 
for my everyday companions. " One can readily 



BIRD ODDITIES 295 

believe that under such circumstances the daily- 
presence of birds means much to a genuine 
Nature lover. 

Jay Talk 

He tells me that in the early days in the lum- 
ber camps the Canada Jay bore the name of 
"The Old Logger." The legend is that when 
an aged lumberman died his spirit at once took 
possession of a Jay, and if the bird was killed 
the spirit, too, died with it. This tale was told 
to all novices who appeared at the camps and 
as a result they were very careful to do no injury 
to these too friendly birds. Perhaps this lenient 
treatment accounts, in a manner at least, for 
their extreme boldness. 

Regarding the great hardihood of these birds 
which enables them to rear their young when 
the terrible cold of winter still prevails, he re- 
lates the following story: The driver of the tote 
team left camp one bitter cold morning in early 
March to drive to the settlement, a long day's 
journey distant. Because of an accident on the 
road he was delayed for several hours and when 
night overtook him he cut a fir tree from the 
thick brush of which to make a shelter. As the 
tree fell a brood of half-grown Canada Jays was 
thrown out upon the frozen snow, crying pite- 
ously in their distress. But quickly the parent 
birds came and bore them away one by one to a 
neighboring spruce. 

The eggs must have been laid and hatched in 
February when the temperature was many 
degrees below zero. Think of the vigor and 



296 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

courage of birds that will hatch their young 
under such conditions ! The food problem must 
have been a difficult one for them to solve, 
and had not the fledglings been constantly- 
brooded by one of the parents, they would have 
perished from the cold. 

A common pastime of the lumbermen, who 
well know the Jay's great fondness for meat, is 
to attach a bit to one end of a long string, the 
other end of which is fastened to a log of the 
camp near a window. The operator then places 
string and meat in a crevice between the logs 
and withdraws to await developments. No 
sooner is he in the cabin than the Jay, which 
all the time has been an interested spectator of 
these careful preparations, seizes the tempting 
morsel and starts with a rush toward some 
secluded perch where his feast is likely to be 
uninterrupted. Scarcely is he under way when 
with a jerk he is brought up with a suddenness 
that upsets him. Nothing daunted, however, 
he will return again and again until, in sheer 
pity for his keen hunger, the string is cut, and 
the meat is borne away in triumph. 

Another- diversion of the men is to balance 
a long dry spruce pole across the log which forms 
the doorsill of the camp, half of the pole being 
inside. To the outer end are fastened scraps of 
meat. When the Jay, and there is always one 
about, lights on the pole and seizes the bait, a 
man in the cabin hits the pole a mighty blow 
with an axe, and the poor bird is hurled many 
feet into the air. Yet he is uninjured by this 
rough treatment, and will return repeatedly 



BIRD ODDITIES 297 

until he is at last allowed to devour the morsel 
in peace. 

An incident which is also an excellent illus- 
tration of the fearless greed of the Canada Jay 
was related by another friend who is a persistent 
and skillful hunter of big game. While hunt- 
ing moose in the Oxbow country one day, he sat 
down with his guide on an old log to lunch and 
rest. Almost immediately the Jays came, silent 
as ghosts, and perched just above their heads. 
When the food from the guide's pack was 
placed on the log the birds at once attempted 
to seize it and were kept from their purpose only 
by careful watching. Finally, to test their 
audacity, the hunter holding his rifle in his 
hands, impaled a doughnut on the end of the 
barrel. No sooner did a Jay observe the tempt- 
ing morsel than he flew down and began to 
eagerly devour it, when the discharge of the 
rifle hurled him several feet into the air. But 
he was uninjured and soon returned to the 
feast, which this time he was allowed to finish. 
Truly the utter fearlessness of these birds is 
beyond man's understanding. 

The Lost Fisherman 

The Old Guide also told me of an amusing 
incident which happened when he was guiding 
at Camp Caribou on Parmacheenee Lake in 
northern Maine. An elderly fisherman from the 
city, Mr. Chickering by name, refusing the as- 
sistance of a guide, made his way about the 
woods alone, often spending the entire day on 



298 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

some stream in pursuit of his favorite sport. 
One evening in June he failed to return to camp, 
but came in the next morning just as a party of 
guides was making ready to search for him. A 
night in the woods had improved neither the 
old man's appearance nor his temper. He com- 
plained bitterly of the insults hurled at him 
from the treetops by some ill bred birds through 
the long hours of the night, declaring that they 
mocked him in his distress, even repeating his 
name in derision. As he wandered about in his 
efforts to locate the trail to camp he had talked 
to himself in the anguish and fear under which 
he labored, for being lost in the great forest at 
night was to him a very serious matter. Then 
came the teasing of these heartless birds, in 
sheer mockery singing: 

"Poor Mr. — Chickering, — Chickering, — dickering; 
A-l-1 night — Chickering, — Chickering, — Chickering," 

repeated again and again, until his wrath 
against these feathered jesters was at high 
pitch. When told that this was the usual song 
of the White-throated Sparrow, his anger was 
somewhat appeased, but he never quite forgave 
these sweet singers who made light of his dis- 
tress. You will remember that the song of this 
bird has been given several different interpre- 
tations, the particular version depending upon 
the choice of the interpreter. 

Woodpecker Wooing 

The male Woodpecker, not being endowed 
with musical talent, resorts to other means for 



BIRD ODDITIES 299 

attracting and winning the affections of a mate. 
Being a skillful drummer, as we have already- 
learned, he attempts to drum his way to the 
heart of the retiring female. Clinging to a dead 
dry stub, he beats a lively tattoo, perhaps think- 
ing by this display of skill to prove his ability 
to bountifully supply his mate and the nestlings 
with fat grubs. 

While fishing one spring on Kennebago Lake 
with a party of friends, we occupied a log cabin 
at some distance from the main camp. Close be- 
side our cabin was a garden enclosed by a high 
fence of woven wire to protect the growing 
vegetables from the ravages of deer which were 
very abundant in that region. The taut wire 
was securely fastened to dry cedar posts set 
firmly in the ground. Every morning about 
daylight, a male Hairy Woodpecker came and 
hammered away on the resonant posts, the 
sound running around the enclosure as on a tele- 
phone line, seeming to increase rather than di- 
minish as it traveled. We were regularly awakened 
by this early drummer, and for some time I was 
unable to determine the reason for his attacking 
the sound, dry posts which gave little prospect 
of containing a supply of grubs, or wood borers. 
After a time I saw a female flying shyly about in 
the edge of the woods and then the whole affair 
was plain to me. But alas*! there came a tragedy 
to mar the success of this sylvan wooing. One 
morning in a frenzy of zeal he flew to the stove 
funnel which projected from the guide's camp 
in lieu of a chimney, and upon this he beat such 
a roll that every sleeping inmate was instantly 



300 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

awakened. A well aimed shot from a rifle in the 
hands of an angry guide who strongly objected 
to being disturbed at such an unseemly hour 
put an end to the love making. Indeed "he 
loved not wisely but too well. " 

A Strange Occurrence 

Two friends of mine set out one morning in 
late September from the Mt. Kineo House for a 
day's fishing on Moosehead Lake. As it was the 
open season for duck shooting, guns were taken 
along with the hope that some of these birds 
might be found in the sheltered coves about 
Lily Bay. While disposing of guns and tackle 
in the light boat preparatory to starting out, 
the leader attached to one of the lines fell over- 
board, a fact of which the fishermen were un- 
aware until a hard jerk on the rod warned them 
that a trout had struck at the tempting flies. 
On raising the rod it was found that the leader 
had parted from the line, and together with the 
flies had been carried off by the fish. Specula- 
tion naturally followed as to the size and daring 
of the trout, but a new cast was quickly made 
up and attached to the line, and the sport began 
with little thought of the accident. 

In the late afternoon as they rounded a point 
which protected a reed-bordered cove, a Wood 
Duck was seen at some distance, which at their 
appearance made frantic efforts to fly, but was 
unable to rise from the water, being held down, 
as it seemed, by some invisible weight. Ap- 
proaching within gun shot, the duck was killed, 



BIRD ODDITIES 301 

and on taking it into the boat it was found that 
an artificial trout fly attached to a leader had 
caught in the bird's foot, and upon pulling in the 
leader, which all the while seemed strangely 
endowed with life, judging from the circles it 
cut in the water, a two-pound trout was found 
securely fastened to a fly at the end. After a 
little careful examination of flies and leader it 
was identified as the very same cast which had 
been so quietly filched as they were starting in 
the morning. Much discussion followed this 
remarkable occurrence and the conclusion was 
reached that the trout had dragged the leader 
about the lake and coming near the surface had 
hooked the trailing fly into the duck's foot. 
And because of the size of the fish, the duck, 
when attempting to fly, had been unable to 
lift it. A photograph was taken of trout, duck 
and leader as they were taken from the water. 



Chapter XVIII 
BIRD PROTECTION 

"Think of your woods and orchards without birds! 
******** 
Will bleat of flocks or bellowing of herds 

Make up for the lost music, when your teams 
Drag home the stingy harvest, and no more 

The feathered gleaners follow to your door? 

You call them thieves and pillagers; but know, 
They are the winged wardens of your farms, 

Who from the cornfields drive the insidious foe, 
And from your harvests keep a hundred harms." 

— The Birds of Killingzvorth, Longfellow. 

In the last quarter of a century a great change 
of attitude toward birds has taken place among 
the citizens of our country. Slowly, to be sure, 
but, nevertheless, steadily interest in the preser- 
vation and increase of bird life has been aroused 
until today in city and country alike bird con- 
servation is a very live topic. This is largely due 
to the fact that it has been demonstrated even 
to the satisfaction of the veriest doubter that the 
protection of birds has an important economic 
phase, entirely apart from the claim of the 
nature lover, whose sole argument might be the 
very good one of protecting the bird for its own 
sake as a creature of surpassing beauty, of nota- 
ble vocal ability and highly interesting habits, 
which make strong appeal to the aesthetic side, 
if no other. 

302 



BIRD PROTECTION 303 

In recent years, because of the great war, the 
problem of increased food production and con- 
servation has been so very important, the need for 
bird protection becomes imperative. The destruc- 
tion of crops from the inroads of insect pests has 
become to the farmer and orchardist an annual 
menace. So serious in some sections of the 
country are these ravages that raising crops has 
been almost despaired of. The activities of the 
brown-tail moth in New England, the boll weevil 
in the cotton fields of the South, the cinch bug 
and Hessian fly in the wheat fields of the West, 
the potato bug throughout the North, to men- 
tion but a few of the most common, at times have 
reached such proportions as to constitute a 
serious problem for the farmer, to be met even 
in a partial degree only by expensive and labori- 
ous methods. 

A striking instance of the value of birds in crop 
protection is found in the story of the Franklin 
gulls coming as by a miracle and saving the crops 
of the early Mormon settlers from destruction by 
black crickets. As myriads of crickets had 
stripped the country the season before, a repe- 
tition would have meant starvation for the hardy 
settlers on the very outskirts of civilization. 
Timely, indeed, was the coming of the gulls, for 
they completely destroyed the pest, insuring the 
harvest. The Mormons have commemorated 
the event by the erection of a beautiful monu- 
ment in Salt Lake City, and ever since that 
eventful season Franklin gulls have been safe 
from harm among this grateful people. 

If you have seen an orchard denuded by the 



304 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

brown-tail or gypsy moth as though swept by 
fire, or a deciduous forest stripped clean of every 
vestige of green, transformed as it were to the 
nakedness of winter, you have some idea of the 
serious character of damage wrought by insects. 
The boll weevil of the cotton fields has caused 
such destruction that throughout whole sections 
rich lands have been abandoned or turned to 
some other crop. It has been estimated that the 
damage done to crops by insects throughout the 
United States in a single year reaches the en- 
ormous sum of $800,000,000. This is no idle esti- 
mate, but has been arrived at after painstaking 
research extending over a series of years, and 
most careful computation. Truly, a destruction 
of such magnitude deserves, even commands, the 
earnest attention of all thoughtful persons. 

In this connection certain estimates made by 
ornithologists and other scientists of state and 
Federal departments of agriculture relative to the 
value of the service rendered by birds in meeting 
this evil are of prime interest. The keen appe- 
tites of young birds are well known, it being 
thought probable that the consumption of the 
bird's own weight in food per day is not an 
unusual occurrence. This very likely means in 
the case of the insect-eating birds that a single 
brood consumes from three hundred to one thou- 
sand insects in a single day. Chester K. Reed, 
the well known ornithologist, estimated that in 
Massachusetts alone birds destroy twenty-one 
thousand bushels of insects daily from May to 
September. In Nebraska a naturalist estimates 
that the daily consumption of insects at the 



BIRD PROTECTION 803 

height of the season, the latter half of July and 
August, is one hundred and seventy carloads! 
While in New York State the estimated de- 
struction of injurious insects by birds each season 
is more than three million bushels ! Mr. William 
R. Oates, game commissioner of Michigan, has 
estimated the value of the service rendered by 
birds annually in that state in the destruction of 
noxious insects and weed seeds at more than 
$10,000,000. What a saving, and at what a tri- 
fling cost! Enormous as the figures are it should 
be remembered they are based upon well known 
facts. A very little logical reasoning readily leads 
to the conclusion that adequate protection of bird 
life is not only the natural but the least expensive 
means of preventing the vast annual damage to 
crops from causes largely preventable. In the light 
of these disclosures, is it not apparent that there 
are few problems of the farmer of greater mo- 
ment? And, unlike many other difficulties in the 
farmer's path, the remedy to a great degree is at 
hand. 

Besides these bird laborers never go on strike, 
never become intoxicated, never complain of 
the weather, take no days off either for sport 
or recreation. In the face of these facts can 
we do less than protect in every possible way 
such faithful friends of man? And all they 
ask in return is a reasonable supply of food, a 
secure nesting place, and protection from their 
numerous enemies. Careful students of natural 
phenomena have concluded that were all the 
birds destroyed, the earth in a comparatively 
short time would become uninhabitable for man. 



306 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

Formerly country boys were quite accustomed 
to collect birds' eggs, entirely oblivious of the 
fact that taking the clutch meant the destruction 
of a whole brood of birds. Today, as a direct 
result of intelligent and sustained instruction in 
the schools and numerous nature clubs, as well as 
through the columns of the press, every boy and 
girl understands something of the value of the 
live bird, both as an object worthy of careful 
study for the beauty of its plumage, pleasing 
notes and songs and interesting habits, and for its 
practical value as a necessary aid to the farmer. 
In consequence they have become guardians of 
the birds, no mean allies in saving and recruiting 
this important army. While it probably may not 
be claimed that birds can meet in their entirety 
such difficult problems as the destruction of the 
boll weevil or brown-tail moth, yet it has been 
demonstrated by numerous experiments that 
they can do much to keep these pests in check. 

Formerly, too, men and boys with guns ruth- 
lessly destroyed many varieties other than game 
birds with very little heed to their rapidly 
diminishing numbers. I well remember when a 
boy in the country, shooting matches were 
organized for Thanksgiving Day. A table of 
counts having been arranged for the different 
varieties of birds and animals likely to be found 
in Maine at that season, competing parties sallied 
forth literally combing the country over large 
areas, killing every wild creature, in feathers or 
fur. The result was truly appalling. And after 
the collections were made and the count ren- 
dered all the smaller birds and animals were 



BIRD PROTECTION 307 

given over to the cats — only game birds being 
regarded of value for food. Fortunately these 
destructive forays passed out of fashion long 
ago, and, in consequence, birds and small animals 
in that region, except perhaps in the case of 
game birds, are now much more numerous than 
formerly. 

For many years the feather hunter wrought 
his merciless slaughter almost at will, and several 
of the most beautiful varieties came dangerously 
near to the point of extermination. The dainty 
white Egret of Florida was reduced almost to the 
vanishing point and even Sea Gulls, those familiar 
figures of harbor and shore, were greatly dimin- 
ished in number under the murderous gun of this 
relentless destroyer. And all this because many 
ladies of the land held the mistaken notion that 
the feathers of a poor dead bird constitute a 
necessary and becoming adjunct to the milliner's 
art. Other varieties with attractive plumage 
suffered great reduction in numbers, and but for 
the timely intervention of kindly disposed law- 
makers would have gone the way of the Wild 
Pigeon, Great Auk, and Labrador Duck. 

Desultory attempts were made to correct this 
condition but after several years it became evi- 
dent that the great variety of laws enacted in 
different states, and the entire absence of pro- 
tective laws in a large group of states, made 
necessary some uniform system, if migratory 
birds in general were to be saved from extinction. 
Accordingly, in 1913 a Federal law was enacted 
forbidding the killing of insect-eating birds be- 
cause of their value to agriculture, and of migra- 



308 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

tory game birds. The execution of this law was 
placed in the hands of the Biological Survey, a 
bureau of the Department of Agriculture. The 
good effect of this prohibition has been mani- 
fested already in the increased numbers of our 
more common birds. The lives of many song 
birds, — Meadow Lark and Robin, Oriole and 
Thrush — have been made much safer by this 
wise and timely effort in their behalf. And now 
a treaty has been made between the United 
States and Canada looking to the adequate pro- 
tection of all migratory birds. All good citizens, 
bird lovers in particular, may well rejoice at the 
outcome of the hard struggle so valiantly carried 
on for many years in behalf of these valuable 
friends of man. And to those enterprising men 
and women who have brought about this better 
day, gratitude and homage are due which may 
best be expressed in an earnest effort to obey all 
the laws looking to bird protection, and to com- 
pel such obedience from others. 

A leading part in securing enactment of 
adequate laws for bird protection and their 
enforcement, and in stimulating public interest 
in the subject throughout the country, has 
been played by the National Association of 
Audubon Societies. This worthy organization 
has undoubtedly done more than any other 
agency — perhaps more than all other agencies 
combined — to bring to public attention the great 
importance of protecting bird life. It is accord- 
ingly deserving of the cordial support of all good 
citizens. 

The increased interest in rural life, and in 




wood thrush 



BIRD PROTECTION 309 

every phase of nature study attendant upon the 
back-to-the-land movement has found its order- 
ly expression in wisely conceived and admirably 
executed activities for bird-protection clubs and 
societies. These organizations have taken up the 
work with serious purpose which has already 
brought about remarkable results. Winter feed- 
ing of birds, planting of shrubs bearing berries 
to their taste, protecting nesting sites, and the 
placing of birdboxes, in short, being a real friend 
of the birds has done much to increase their num- 
bers and to bring them close about our homes, 
both in city and country. So much interest has 
been aroused it may even be said the crisis is 
passed, the low-water mark reached, and the 
tide is now at flood with a strong, deep current 
of public opinion behind it, that makes quite 
certain even better conditions year by year. 
But earnest, united, and sustained action will be 
necessary to keep the tide moving in the right 
direction. The fact that such a good beginning 
has been made should occasion no laxity, but 
serve as a stimulus to greater activity on behalf 
of the birds. The great importance of conserving 
all our material resources, of protecting beyond 
the possibility of extinction the rich fauna with 
which Nature has so generously endowed this 
country, together with the dire need of protect- 
ing food crops has given tremendous impetus to 
this movement. 

Better protection of game birds, Ruffed- 
grouse, Snipe, Quail, Woodcock, etc., is already 
under way. Who can tell what favorable results 
may be realized from encouraging Bob-white to 



310 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

become a summer denizen of the potato field? 
None can deny the charm of his presence, an- 
nounced by his plaintive cry, one of the most 
alluring call-notes heard in all birdland. Well 
authenticated reports are at hand of Bob-white's 
very successful protection of the potato patch 
from its all too common foe. In our garden a 
Rose-breasted Grosbeak has been seen regaling 
himself upon the fat grubs of the potato beetle 
with a zest that betokened great fondness for 
these delicacies. How better could one secure 
even partial immunity for the potato field than 
to encourage Quail and Grosbeak to take up 
residence there? Would it not be worth our 
attention to insure them a full guaranty of pro- 
tection if for no other purpose than to attract 
such beautiful and interesting neighbors? Very 
laudable and successful efforts have been made 
by public-spirited citizens keenly alive to the 
necessity for protecting the birds, toward estab- 
lishing bird reservations. Beginning in 1913, 
through the efforts of the Audubon Society, 
several islands along the coast of the Southern 
States, which are all the year homes of several 
varieties and winter feeding ground for numer- 
ous migrants, have been designated by Federal 
authorities as places where birds shall be free 
from molestation by man. This movement has 
extended until there are in all some seventy such 
reservations scattered through the Western 
States — even to far-away Alaska. To be sure, 
adequate funds from Federal sources have not 
been available to properly police these isolated 
tracts, yet the amount available, supplemented 



/ 



BIRD PROTECTION 811 

by the funds and splendid efforts of the Audubon 
Society, has accomplished much, and the out- 
look is most encouraging. 

In addition to these natural reservations, 
private citizens, and, in some instances, muni- 
cipalities have established sanctuaries. Consider- 
able tracts have been made safe for nesting sites, 
and generally attractive both to summer and 
winter residents. This is an excellent example 
of the awakened interest in a very important 
field. Why may not every farmer increase the 
fullness of bin and mow by making provision of 
sanctuary for his bird visitors? 

Another constant menace to birds, especially 
to those that become trustful summer residents 
of lawn and orchard, garden and barn, is the 
ubiquitous cat. Much attention has been given 
by bird lovers in recent years to the destruction 
wrought by this favorite pet, with the result that 
many who were formerly ardent and constant 
partisans of tabby have come to look upon her 
race with increasing disfavor. For it has been 
learned through many tragedies of the nest that 
one may not have both close bird friends and 
cats as pets, unless the latter are confined, or 
restricted by some device from depredations 
upon birds which seem a natural phase of feline 
instinct. When it has come to a matter of 
choice in some cases at least, probably in many, 
the house pet has been eliminated to the great 
joy of the feathered folk. 

We have not had a cat about our house in sum- 
mer for many years, and in consequence, our 
bird friends have been both numerous and 



512 BIRDS OF FIELD, FOREST AND PARK 

intimate. Tree Swallow and Song Sparrow, 
Chippy and Sebec, Blue Bird and Barn Swallow, 
Robin and Phoebe, have come close about, nest- 
ing in the woodbine on the house and in the little 
boxes placed for them. In the thick grass fields 
close by, the summer colony is large, including 
Bobolinks, Meadow Larks, Sandpipers, Savanna, 
Song and Vesper Sparrows, with Kingbirds and 
Cherrybirds in the orchard. We are convinced 
that the presence of cats would appreciably lessen 
the number of these trustful friends of ours. The 
mellow notes of the Black-billed Cuckoo as he 
slyly rests for a time hidden in the thick top of a 
shade tree on the lawn on a sultry August day, 
having regaled himself, perhaps, upon the juicy 
inmates of some caterpillar tent, is a far greater 
joy to us than could be experienced from the 
presence of a house cat. And, besides, the destruc- 
tion of a caterpillar nest is neither a clean nor 
a pleasing task for the caretaker of the lawn. 

Startling figures relating to the destruction of 
birds by cats have been given by those who have 
looked deeply into the question. In a single sea- 
son a house cat has been known to kill fifty birds. 
That they- destroy annually in the United States 
several millions of valuable birds seems a con- 
servative estimate. It is believed that annually 
the seventy thousand cats in Massachusetts kill 
ten birds each, making an appalling total of seven 
hundred thousand birds. In this ratio through- 
out the whole country the destruction would be 
almost incredible. 

There are many other natural enemies of the 
birds both in feathers and fur. Several varieties 



BIRD PROTECTION 313 

of Hawks, Owls, Jays, Shrikes and Crows are 
recognized destroyers of eggs and nestlings. 
Just what the extent of this destruction is has 
not been ascertained, but enough is known to 
justify the belief that the aggregate constitutes 
a considerable factor in lessening bird life. 
Snakes, foxes, skunks, mink, numerous rodents 
and the noisy red squirrel are among the enemies 
that prey upon both eggs and young, as well as 
adult birds. So that the perils are many. A 
season's daily inspection of the nests in one's 
neighborhood will reveal so many tragedies that 
the wonder is that any young survive. Add to 
these natural marauders the depredations of the 
house cat, the dangers of migration from ex- 
posure, from losing their way in the fog, from 
striking lighthouses and suspended wires of 
various sorts, and the wonder grows. The dem- 
onstrated ability to face so many vicissitudes 
and survive in increasing numbers is excellent 
proof of the hardihood and sturdiness of these 
feathered friends of man. 

Every loyal citizen wherever and when- 
ever opportunity offers should become a self- 
appointed warden to guard and protect the birds 
— the natural food conservators of the nation. 
Is it too much to ask of all thoughtful people, 
men and women, boys and girls, that they enlist 
in the ever-increasing army of bird-protectors, 
ready and anxious to do all in their power to 
lessen their constant perils ? An excellent test of 
citizenship is one's attitude toward and interest 
in the conservation of such useful and altogether 
attractive creatures. 



INDEX 



t Numbers in heavy-faced type indicate pages containing descrip- 
tions of birds. 

Blue Jay, 17, 100, 149 
Bobolink (Reed Birds, Rice 

Birds), 6, 20, 22, 23, 32, 111 
Bob White, 24, 35, 219 
Bohemian Waxwing, 203 
Breeding, 10, 11, 12 
Brewster, William, 96 
Broadwinged Hawk, 228 
Bronzed Grackle, 124 
Brown Creeper, 139 
BrownThrasher (Brown Thrush)? 

159 
Bullfinch, 17 

Bunting, 22, 24, 25, 35, 41, 60, 61 
Burroughs, John, 32, 54, 61, 75, 

93, 99, 101, 137, 191 



Age, 14 

Albatross, 19 

Alder Flycatcher (Traill's Fly- 
catcher), 77, 255 

American Bittern (Stake Driver) 
199 

American Goldfinch (Wild Ca- 
nary, Yeilowbird, etc.), 66 

American Redstart, 178 

American Three-toed Wood- 
pecker (Ladder-back), 130 

Amundsen, Roald, 18 

Arctic Three-toed Woodpecker, 
130 

B 

Baltimore Oriole (Firebird), 119 
Bank Swallow, 13, 27, 84 
Barn Swallow, 28, 80 
Barred Owl (Hoot Owl), 233 
Baynes, Harold, 144 
Baywinged Bunting, 41 
Belted Kingfisher, 200 
Bicknell's Thrush, 88, 96 
Bird Protection, 302, 307 
Bird Sanctuaries, 310 
Birds in Crop Protection, 303 
Bird Study, 16, 33, 34 
Bittern, 199 

Black-billed Cuckoo, 204 
Blackburnian Warbler, 194, 266 
Black-throated Blue Warbler, 

171, 181 
Black-throated Green Warbler, 

171, 182 
Black Poll Warbler, 171, 189 
Black and White Warbler, 171, 

176 
Blanchan, Neltje, 41 
Bluebird, 1, 3, 12, 13, 30, 101, 

240,290 
Blue Grosbeak, 60 
Blue Heron, 25 



Call Notes, 30 

Canada Jay (Moose Bird, Meat 
Hawk, etc.), 12, 152, 295 

Canadian Ruffed Grouse, 258 

Canadian Spruce Grouse, 260 

Canadian Warbler, 193 

Cardinal (Virginia Redbird), 22, 
33,65 

Carolina Chickadee, 146 

Carolina Wren, 163 

Cassowary, 19 

Catbirds (Northern Mocking- 
bird), 3, 26, 157 

Causes of Bird Destruction, 306 

Cause of Migration, 7 

Cedar Waxwing, 202 

Chapman, Frank M., 43, 93, 
109, 170, 178 

Chat, 188 

Chebec (Least Flycatcher), 71 

Cheney, John Vance, 145 

Cherrybird, 12, 32, 266 

Chestnut-sided Warbler, 185 

Chewink (Towhcc, Ground Rob- 
in), 56 



815 



316 



INDEX 



Chickadee (Black-capped Tit- 
mouse), 31, 32, 35, 144, 146, 
279 

Chimney Swift, 28, 210, 241 

Chipping Sparrow, 39, 243, 284 

Classification, 34, 35, 36 

Cock of the Woods (Pileated 
Woodpecker), 254 

Color of Plumage, 22 

Color Protection, 23, 25 

Cone-eaters, 20 

Cooper's Hawk (Hen-hawk), 224 

Cowbird, 10, 114 

Crane, 19, 20, 32 

Crested Flycatcher, 74, 254 

Crossbill, 20, 35, 64, 293 

Crow, 28, 32, 35, 154 

Cuckoo, 204, 206 

D 
Distribution of Bird Life, 18 
Diving Birds, 19 
Dove, 30, 206 
Downy Woodpecker, 35, 128, 

277 
Duck, 5, 9, 21, 27, 32, 301 
Dwight, Dr., 44 



Eave Swallow (Cliff Swallow), 

28,81 
European Blackbird, 17 
Evening Grosbeak, 60 



Field Sparrow, 41 

Finches, 3, 12, 17, 20, 22, 23, 

25,41,56 • 
Fish Hawk (Osprey), 229 
Flagg, Wilson, 106, 112 
Flamingo, 19 
Flicker (Yellowhammer, etc.), 

135 278 
Flycatcher, 2, 17, 18, 22, 67, 69, 

71, 74, 75, 254, 255, 286, 287 
Form, 18, 19 
Fox Sparrow, 4, 44, 283 
Frigate-bird, 19 

G 

Geese, 2, 5, 9, 21 

Gibson, William Hamilton, 58 



Golden-crowned Kinglet, 147 
Golden Plover, 7 
Goldfinch, 12, 22, 23, 25, 66 
Grackle, 12, 13, 124 
Grass-finch, 41 
Grasshopper Sparrow, 43 
Gray-cheeked Thrush, 88, 96 
Great Blue Heron, 196 
Great-crested Flycatcher, 286 
Great Gray Owl, 234 
Grebe, 19 
Grosbeak, 60 
Ground Robin (Chewink, To- 

whee), 55 
Grouse, 21, 27, 258, 260, 276 
Gull, 18 

H 
Hairy Woodpecker, 35, 127, 

251 278 
Hawk, 5, 18, 27, 28, 31, 32, 211, 

221, 222, 223, 224, 225, 226, 

228, 229 
Hermit Thrush, 33, 90, 244, 283 
Heron, 9, 19, 20, 25, 196 
Horned Lark, 35 
House Wren, 18, 29, 164 
Hudsonian Chickadee, 146 
Humming Bird, 20, 27, 255, 287 
Hunting Birds, 18 

I 

Incubation, 10 

Indigo Bunting, 22, 25, 60 

Insect-eaters, 37 



Jay, 12, 17, 32, 35, 100, 149, 

152, 295 
Junco (Sla^e-colored Snowbird), 

53, 243, 282, 289 

K 

Kingbird (Tyrant Flycatcher), 

18, 69, 286 
Kingfisher, 27, 200 
Knight, Ora, 175 



Lark, 24, 33, 35, 116 
Loggerhead Shrike, 218 
Long-billed Marsh Wren, 167 



INDEX 



317 



Long-eared Owl, 234 
Loon^ 5, 9, 19, 21, 27, 268 
Louisiana Water Thrush, 193 

M 
Magnolia Warbler (Black and 

Yellow Warbler), 194 
Marsh Hawk, 28, 222 
Martin, 32, 86 

Maryland Yellow-throat, 187 
Mathews, Schuyler, 73, 90 
Mating, 9 

Meadow Lark, 24, 116 
Migration, 1, 8, 13 
Mocking Bird, 3, 26, 33, 157, 161 
Moulting, 13 
Mourning Dove, 206 
Myrtle Warbler, 3, 173 

N 
Nashville Warbler, 183 
Natural Enemies of Birds, 311 
Nests, 10, 25, 30 
Night Hawk, 27, 211 
Nightingale, 33 
Northern Shrike (Butcher Bird), 

216 
Nuthatches, 35, 140, 141, 142 



Oates, William R., 305 

Olive-backed Thrush (Swain- 
son's Thrush), 87, 94, 244 

Olive-sided Flycatcher, 76, 254 

Orchard Oriole, 118 

Oriole, 28, 118, 119, 286 

Ostrich, 19 

Ovenbird (Teacher Bird), 190, 
265 

Owl, 5, 18, 24, 28, 35, 221, 230, 
231, 232, 233, 234, 235 



Partridge, 21, 24, 260 

Parula Warbler, 17, 184 

Penguins, 18 

Phoebe (Pewee, Bridge Pewee), 

29, 67, 284 
Pigeon, 17 
Pigeon Hawk, 227 



Pileated Woodpecker (Cock oi 

the Woods), 131, 254 
Pine Grosbeak (Pine Bullfinch), 

59 
Pine Siskin (Pine Finch), 62, 257 
Pine Warbler, 177 
Plover, 24 
Plumage, 13, 21 
Ptarmigan, 24 
Purple Grackle, 18, 123 
Purple Finch, 22, 61, 242, 283 
Purple Martin (House Martin), 

85 



Redbreasted Nuthatch, 142 
Red-eyed Vireo (Preacher Bird), 

106 
Red-headed Woodpecker, 137 
Redpoll, 63 

Red-shouldered Hawk, 225 
Redstart, 178 
Red-tailed Hawk, 225 
Red-winged Blackbird, 121, 280, 

285 
Red-winged Crossbill, 64 
Reed, Chester K., 304 
Reedbirds (Bobolink), 6 
Ricebirds (Bobolink), 6 
Robin, 1, 3, 4, 12, 13, 18, 26, 28, 

30, 55, 96, 240, 280, 285, 290 
Rose-breasted Grosbeak, 67 
Ruby-crowned Kinglet, 148 
Ruffed Grouse, 2, 11, 24, 35, 

257, 258, 260 
Rusty Blackbird, 123, 246 



Sandpiper, 21, 198 

Sapsucker, 133 

Savanna Sparrow, 42, 283 

Saw-whet Owl, 232 

Scarlet Tanager, 22, 23, 25, 208 

Screech Owl, 231 

Sebec (Chebec), 71, 255 

Seed-eaters, 20, 37 

Sentinel Crow, 30 

Sharp-shinned Hawk (Hen 

Hawk), 223 
Sharp-tailed Sparrow, 44 
Short-billed Marsh Wren, 168 



318 



INDEX 



Short-eared Owl, 234 

Shrike, 31, 216, 218 

Skylark, 33 

Slate-colored Snowbird (Junco), 

63 
Snipe, 19, 32 
Snowbunting (Snowflake), 24, 

35, 37, 61 
Snowy Owl, 24, 35, 236 
Solitary Viero (Blue-headed 

Vireo), 110 
Song, 31 
Song-Sparrow, 1, 3, 13, 29, 32, 

37,38,39,240,282 
Sparrow, 3, 4, 13, 20, 22, 24, 

28, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 

44, 46, 47, 49, 50, 243, 245, 

282, 296, 298 
Sparrow Hawk (Kiily Hawk), 

226 
Spotted Sandpiper (Steelyard 

Bird or Teeterup), 198 
Spruce Partridge, 24, 260 
Starling, 17, 214 
Summer Tanager, 208 
Swallow, 6, 9, 13, 19, 22, 27, 

28, 32, 79, 80, 81, 82, 84, 

241, 287 
Swamp Sparrow, 46 
Swimming Birds, 19 



Tanager, 22, 23, 25, 208 
Thoreau, Henry David, 63, 107, 

112, 167 
Thrasher, 157, 159 
Thrush, 17, 22, 32, 33, 40, 87, 

88, 90, 92, 95, 96, 192, 193, 

244, 283 
Three- toed Woodpecker, 130 
Time of Migration, 7, 13 
Titmouse, 143 * 
Torrey, Bradford, 109 
Towhee (Chewink), 65 
Tree Sparrow (Winter Chippy), 

60 
Tree Swallow, 13, 28, 82, 241 
Tufted Titmouse, 143 
Turtle Dove, 30 



Van Dyke, Dr. Henry, 92 
Veery (Wilsons Thrush), 87, 

92,244 
Vesper Sparrow, 40, 283 
Vireo (Greenlet), 25, 27, 32, 

104, 105, 107, 108, 110 

W 
Wading Birds, 19, 32 
Warblers, 3, 13, 18, 25, 170, 

171, 173, 174, 176, 179, 181, 

182, 183, 185, 186, 189, 193, 

194, 266, 273, 284, 287 
Warbling Vireo, 106 
Water Birds, 32 
Water Thrush, 17, 192 
Waxwing, 202, 203 
Whippoorwill, 212 
White, Gilbert, 9 
White-breasted Nuthatch, 141 
White-crowned Sparrow, 49 
White-eyed Vireo, 108 
White-throated Sparrow, 3, 47, 

245, 298 
Wild Geese, 2 
Wilson Thrush (Veery), 87, 

92 244 
Wilson s Warbler, 186 
Winter Chippy (Tree Sparrow), 

50 
Winter Wren, 165, 248 
Woodcock, 19 
Woodpeckers, 3, 17, 20, 35, 126, 

127, 128, 130, 251, 254, 277, 

278, 298 
Wood Pewee, 72 
Wood Pigeon, 17 
Wood Thrush, 87, 88 
Wood- Warblers, 170 
Wrens, 18, 29, 157, 163, 164, 

165, 167, 248 



Yellow-bellied Flycatcher, 17, 76 
Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, 133 
Yellow-billed Cuckoo, 206 
Yellow-breasted Chat, 188 
Yellow Palm Warbler, 174 
Yellow-throated Vireo, 107 
Yellow Warbler, 179 


















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